Not Listening
by TheBucketWoman
Summary: "In American Sign Language there was more than one way to say what she said. She used the three part sign, pointing to herself, crossing her arms over her chest, then pointing at him." AU Dasey, among other pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter One

Part One: George.

"So, George," Nora asked, "Why don't you tell me about your kids?"

Eight words, pretty innocuous in and of themselves, yet they always made George Venturi's stomach curdle a little. Nora had stuck with him even after their miserable first date, but, based on his experience, this was the part where women's eyes inevitably began to glaze over. They didn't usually wait to hear about the actual kids before they lost interest. Just the fact that there were three of them made George that much less marriageable. One kid, they could maybe put up with, but _three_? The last woman he'd been out with had wondered if he'd gotten to keep the shoe the kids lived in as part of the divorce settlement.

But, to be fair, Nora seemed to know what that was like, with two little date repellents of her own at home. And she still seemed genuinely interested in his.

_Well_, he thought. _If I'm going to scare her away, I guess now's the time._ He reached into his pocket for his wallet. He needed a new one. Pretty soon, he might even need a rubber band to hold it together, but it was one of those things that he never got around to replacing. He pulled out the plastic insert that held the pictures and handed it to Nora.

"That's Marti on top," George said. "She's six." It was Marti's school picture. In it, she smiled widely, showing missing teeth that she was endlessly proud of. _And_, George thought, _if you looked closely, you could almost see the cute little devil horns starting to sprout from her forehead._

Nora stared at her picture for a long time, and her smile widened.

"Why do I get the feeling this was the first time she sat still all day?" Nora asked.

"They had to use the same setting nature photographers use on hummingbirds," George said.

"She's adorable," Nora said. She flipped to the next picture, this one of Edwin. He'd raised one eyebrow right before the photographer clicked the shutter. It had been worth the price of the deluxe package. "Now this one has the Devil in him, doesn't he?"

"Edwin?" George asked, mock innocently. "The Devil? Naw, he's the most well-behaved little...hellion.."

Nora laughed and nodded. She thought so.

"...that ever tried to wreak havoc among the unsuspecting of the Earth. Okay you got me," George said.

"Can't put anything past me," Nora said. She flipped the page again. "And this would be the one who taught Edwin everything he knows, I guess?"

"Derek," George said. "Yeah. But you know the old saying. He might have taught Ed everything Ed knows, but not everything Derek knows."

"In light of that, you look surprisingly rested," Nora said, grinning.

"Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving," George said. "So are you scared yet? You've told me all about your two gorgeous, well-behaved girls and I come back with these little monsters."

"Monstrous though they may be," Nora said. "I'd say it's pretty obvious that you wouldn't have it any other way."

"I could use a little more sleep," George said. "But you're right. I _wouldn't_ have it any other way. They're monkeys, but they're mine."

"That's what I always say," Nora said.

"But you have good kids," George said.

"They have their moments," Nora said.

She told George a story about Casey—her oldest's—bedazzling phase.

"Rhinestones everywhere," Nora said. "I was afraid I'd have to hide Lizzie's hamster. Hell, I was afraid I'd find poor Lizzie covered in the damn things. Then there was the time that Casey announced that she wanted to be a teacher. She begged me for one of those huge dry-erase boards on an easel so that she could practice."

"She didn't get high off the markers, did she?" George asked.

"I don't know," Nora said. "It would explain a lot, though. I was gonna say—I came home one day to find Lizzie writing 'I Will Not Question Casey's Authority' over and over on the board."

"She was actually doing it?" George said.

"She had three of the markers rubber-banded together to do three lines at once," Nora said, shaking her head. "But, yeah, she was really doing it. She was, maybe, eight at the time."

"Derek makes Edwin make him breakfast, like pouring cereal and such," George said. "I think money might be involved, though."

"Well, yeah," Nora said. "Otherwise, he'd spit in it. It's what I used to do to my older sister when she was being pissy."

"How do you hide your evil so well?" George asked.

"Lots of practice," Nora said. "What else did your little beasts do?"

"Well," George said. "I'll tell you about when I realized exactly what I was in for."

"Do tell," Nora said.

George realized that he was about to run into trouble with this story. _But, in for a penny, in for a pound,_ he thought.

"Derek was three, almost four," George began. "Well, okay before I go into the story, I have to tell you that Derek contracted meningitis just before he'd turned three..."

"Oh my God," Nora said.

"Exactly," George said. "You can imagine we were pretty terrified that he wouldn't make it. But he did. Not without complications, but still."

"Complications?" Nora asked.

"Yeah," George said. "He has a 90 percent hearing loss in his right ear and a probably 98 percent in the left," He looked up at Nora to see if she'd shut down yet. It didn't look like she had.

"That was the worst of it," George said. "We got off pretty light, considering."

"So I'm told," Nora said.

"So the story has to do with what happened shortly afterward," George said. "We were trying to get him to wear this hearing aid. It was over the ear, very expensive, and uncomfortable as hell, apparently.

And he didn't want to wear it. For months he kept taking it out, trying to leave it places, until finally, he chucked it out of the car window and straight into the London Sewer System. Kid had one hell of an arm, even then. And dead aim. We took it as a hint."

"Yeah, I would've too," Nora said. She was still sitting there. This story was actually how he'd gotten rid of the last woman he'd been set up with. It occurred to him that she might be a keeper, if he didn't do anything to piss her off in the next hour or so.

"So," Nora said, after she finished chewing a hunk of breadstick. "What'd you do next?"

"Well, obviously I couldn't murder him, people would've asked too many questions," George said.

"George," Nora said. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, okay," George said. "We took many, many classes in sign language. I'm horrible at it, but I keep working. Their mother is a little better. All three kids are completely bilingual. Derek speaks and lip-reads so well that I forget that he's deaf and talk to his back as he's leaving the room."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," George said. "I've seen other people do it, too, so I know I'm not completely pathetic."

"I guess I'll take your word for it," Nora said.

For her part, she couldn't imagine forgetting such a thing. Living with it, sure. But not forgetting. Which is why George had a good laugh at her expense a few weeks later.

Part Two: Nora.

Nora thought of it as The Night of the Salmon Jerky. George invited her to his house in London in the hopes that he'd impress her with his cooking skills on his home turf. No such luck, of course, but she had managed to choke down a good deal of her overcooked fish before he let her off the hook and pulled out some pizza bagels from the freezer.

So there they were, crunching on their junkfood, George's copy of _Appetite for Destruction_ playing in the background, when the side door opened.

In walked a tallish, skinny kid with a lot of hair who could only be Derek. He paused on the way through the kitchen, having noticed Nora in the dining room.

"Oops," Derek said.

"Forget something?" George asked.

"Yeah," Derek said. "Movie I rented."

He turned to look at Nora. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," she said. She gestured to the table. "Pizza bagel?"

"Yeah, thanks," Derek said, immediately cramming one in. _I might have to get used to boys_, Nora thought. She couldn't picture Casey or Lizzie doing that.

George put a hand on Derek's shoulder to get his attention. Then, he introduced Nora formally, spelling out her name. Derek, after remembering to wipe the grease off his hand (on his jeans) held it out for Nora to shake. All this before he'd finished chewing.

"Derek," Nora said, patting the chair nearest to her. He looked guiltily at his father, but sat down.

"Where are you headed tonight?"

"I'm staying over my friend Sam's house," he said. "Dad said 'Get lost kid, ya bother me' but at least Sam's mom cares."

Nora laughed. George shot the kid a dirty look.

"I think he wanted the house to himself," Derek said conspiratorially.

"De-_rek_," George said.

"Uh-oh," Derek said, getting up. "I better get out of here before I get locked in the shed again."

Nora laughed some more. He really was cute as a bug. Nora saw a lot of George in him, actually, and she couldn't wait to meet the others now.

"Nice meeting you," Derek said, before he turned away to grab his movie off of the bookcase.

"You too," Nora called while Derek's back was turned. George laughed.

"Oh, crap," Nora said. "I did it, didn't I?"

"_Told _you you would," George said. "Who knew you'd do it so fast?"

On his way out, Derek signed something to George. Nora caught the movement out of the corner of her eye but didn't look because it obviously wasn't meant for her eyes. Not that she would've understood anyway.

"Said he thinks you're way out of my league," George said.


	2. Chapter 2

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Two

Part One: Casey.

Apparently it was getting serious between Casey's Mom and this George character.

Casey sent Lizzie to bed and waited up for her mother to get home. She usually waited up and she _always_ gave Lizzie the details in the morning while they waited for the school bus. Tonight, Casey saw her mother come back to the condo looking like an outtake from _Pretty in Pink_. She leaned against the door after she closed it and did a little happy dance.

"Ahem," Casey said.

"What are you doing up?" Mom asked. Not that Casey had had a bedtime for the last couple of years.

"I could ask you the same thing," Casey teased.

Mom blushed. "I'm the Mommy," she said. "I don't have a curfew." She kicked her heels off and joined Casey on the couch.

"So, how was your day?" Mom asked.

"_Mo-om_!" Casey whined. "Spill! Can this one cook at least?"

"Nope," Mom said, her smile widening. "Can't cook at all."

"That doesn't seem like something you'd normally be smiling at," Casey said. "First the thing with the burger coupon and now this? I hope he's a good kisser."

"Casey!" Mom said, blushing even more.

"Oh my God!" Casey said. "Is that a yes?"

"No comment," Mom said. Meaning yes.

"This sounds kinda serious," Casey said.

"Little bit," Mom said. "I actually want to talk to you and Lizzie about when you might like to meet him."

"Oh," Casey said. She really didn't know what she thought of this. Casey was sure that this was a nice guy her Mom was dating, but it was so much easier to deal with the concept of her mother dating as long as it didn't really affect _her_.

"Case?" her Mom said obviously sensing that the tone of the conversation had changed.

"Um, yeah," Casey said. "I guess."

The possibilities raced through her mind. He could be a creep, straight out of a V.C. Andrews novel, the type who locks innocent stepdaughters in attics. _No wait_, she thought. _V.C. Andrews usually has the women be the evil ones. Usually. The men are just weak._

Would her mother be likely to date a religious fanatic? Probably not, but she was picturing it all the same.

Or what if he was a nice guy, but she just couldn't stand him? Would she be able to pretend that she liked him to make her Mom happy? And would she be able to keep that up until she left for university? She wanted her Mom to be happy, but Jeez, it was just so complicated.

Of course, it turned out she'd been worrying over nothing. She always worried over nothing, but, as far as she was concerned, it was better to worry unnecessarily than to obliviously stumble into trouble.

George was cute. He showed up the next week at the condo with sparkling cider, the kind in the bottle that looked like champagne. He made this whole business of popping the cork. It flew across the room, knocking into a framed poster, knocking it askew.

"Woohoo," Lizzie said.

"Happy New Year," George said. It was July. Casey rolled her eyes but laughed. He'd also brought a little cheese platter. For a minute, things felt almost sophisticated, like a cocktail party. Until George pulled a Charlie Chaplin with two pieces of cheddar on toothpicks. He made the two pieces of cheese into dancing feet. He was good at it, though. It kept both Casey and Lizzie entertained until the takeout came.

Casey's mother was not about to scare George away with her cooking. She wanted to rope him in a little further before she cooked for him. Very quickly Casey's mindset turned from "Am I gonna like him?" to "Is he gonna like me?"

Lizzie was coming off so much better than she was. All it had taken for Lizzie to start talking a blue streak was the mention of sports. Lizzie was interested in pretty much every sport there was and she played most of them, too. She was a girl after George's own heart.

Casey started connecting the toothpicks with little bits of cheese. _If this goes on long enough_, she thought, _I can build a little tower. _She's lost the thread of the conversation before long and Lizzie'd had to poke her to get her attention.

"Sorry, what?" Casey said, realizing people were talking to her.

"Nora tells me that you dance?" George said.

"Yeah, I do ballet, jazz and tap," Casey said. "And I'm not usually so spaced out."

"No problem," George said. "Derek sometimes goes off into his own world a little." Casey and Lizzie had been briefed about the Derek situation. They'd spent most of the last week online, looking up information about American Sign Language. Casey was planning on going to pick up a book from the library the next day, but she and Lizzie had made a good amount of headway on the manual alphabet already and she was proud of herself to say the least. She was making good progress on Operation: _Don't make a fool of yourself in front of George's kids._

"And Marti," George continued. "Well, it's Marti's world; we just live in it."

"What about the other one?" Casey asked, wracking her brain for the name. "Edwin?"

"Edwin, yeah," George said. "Ed's...well, Ed's a character, is what he is."

Casey raised an eyebrow at that, Most people she knew who were "characters" walked around with their zippers down, their shoes untied and with broccoli in their teeth.

"His latest thing is ventriloquism," George said. "He asked for a dummy or a puppet or something, but I'm giving it a few months before I invest any money. Last time, he wanted to take karate. Lasted three weeks. And I can barely get him to practice piano between lessons, so this time, I'm making him work for it a little."

"He plays piano?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," George said. "He's getting annoyed with it, though, because his teacher won't let him do Aerosmith at recitals. I'm with him there. I mean, how much Rachmaninoff can you take?"

_I take it back_, Casey thought, _the kid sounds cool_.

"Maybe it's time for a new teacher," Lizzie said.

"We're in the market," George said.

By the time, George left, Casey really wanted to meet all three of his kids, but she needed to wait because they were all at camp for a couple more weeks. Her Mom kept making jokes about how rested George looked.

"I'll enjoy it while it lasts," George said.

Soon after, they were engaged, and next thing Casey knew she was obsessing over what to wear for the big meeting shortly before the wedding. She made Lizzie hold up several possible outfits and walk around with them in different lighting conditions.

"This is really uncomfortable, Casey," Lizzie said.

"Just a couple more, I promise," Casey said. "Now could you hold up the black top with the flower and the pink skirt again?"

Lizzie dropped the hangers she was holding and walked away.

Part Two: Derek.

"Dad?" Derek said. "Put the tie down. Step away from the tie."

"Don't be so damn dramatic," Dad said. "You know it won't kill you to put on a tie for once in your life. And comb your hair."

"I know no such thing," Derek said. "And anyway, that's a clip on. What kind of squirrel do you think I am?"

Edwin whacked his arm and walked off in a huff. There might have been a "Hey!" in there somewhere, Derek wasn't sure.

"Anyway, why are we trying to impress these people if they're gonna live here?" Derek said. "Like they're not gonna find out the truth."

He'd spent the last couple of days moving furniture and helping Edwin paint his new room. It took forever to get all the paint out of his hair, so he was in a pissy mood even before his Dad started chasing him with the tie.

"Derek," his Dad said. "You don't have to wear the tie, but how about you just give me a break, huh?"

Dad was trying to make him feel guilty, was wearing his most long-suffering face, and it was totally working. Few people in this world could manipulate you even when you know you're being manipulated, but Derek's father had that power. He hoped to learn from the master, someday.

"Fine," Derek said, defeated. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just try not to scare them away, okay kiddo?" Dad said.

He'd try. He liked Nora, but she made him a little nervous. She was just such the polar opposite of his mother. His Mom had a closet full of jeans, wore jeans everywhere. Ran around with the kids. Didn't freak out if you spilled something, made you clean it up, but didn't freak. Nora, however, probably had a house full of white carpet. She seemed like that type.

Really, his best behavior just wasn't going to be enough. This was a woman who got his Dad to wear cufflinks. He didn't even wear those to court. It looked like all of Edwin's powers of concentration were focused on not tugging at his collar. Marti was the only one not freaking. She was far too interested in swishing her skirt and tippy tapping her shoes on the linoleum in the kitchen. He guessed it must make a cool noise. She never got tired of it, anyway.

She was all excited because she heard that one of Nora's kids was a dancer. She was definitely in a ballerina phase. All of her skirts did that twirl thing. If it didn't, she didn't want it. Derek himself had been relieved to find out that the other one could talk sports, so he'd have something in common with somebody.

They were all supposed to meet up at a steakhouse right outside the mall. Dad said that he'd made reservations, but the place was pretty crowded when they got there. After Dad was told that there'd be a twenty, twenty-five minute wait, Derek and Edwin decided that the little waiting area was too crowded and went outside to sit on a little stone bench.

"Okay, you can keep an eye out for the others," Dad said. He held Marti's hand, thinking she'd take off at the first opportunity, but the waiting area had a fish tank and she was fascinated for the moment.

_God forbid they have a lobster tank,_ Derek thought. _All Marti would need to see is the lobsters swimming around one minute and on a plate the next._ He shuddered at the thought.

He amused himself by checking out some of the cars in the lot until Edwin tapped his arm.

"What do you think they look like?" Edwin signed.

" Two little tiny Noras" Derek signed back. "Same clothes, same hair." Nora had finally met Ed and Marti over ice cream about a week before.

Edwin rolled his eyes. "What if they hate us?"

"They're stuck with us."

"Not yet," Edwin signed. Derek shrugged. He couldn't exactly argue with that.

Before too long, a little silver chickmobile pulled into the lot. It looked like the type of boring safe little car that probably had nice cup-holders and good fuel economy, but little else. It was an affront to his dignity.

It parked under the oak tree at the western edge of the lot. From where he was sitting, he had a decent view. He expected some sorority girls to pop out of the thing.

When the door opened, he saw one leg, then another come out. These were some long, tanned legs and they had on shoes with little straps that laced up the ankle. He looked up to see the girl attached to them. She was in a little yellow dress and she looked to be more or less his age. _Her hair's pulled a little too tight,_ Derek thought. _But you can't win em all._

It looked like she forgot something; she leaned over and reached into the car again to grab whatever it was. He was pretty transfixed, but was still prepared to look like he'd been staring off into space at a moment's notice if she caught him staring at her butt.

The car was a two door, so Derek realized that she'd been trying to move the seat forward to let a younger girl out of the backseat. It might have gotten stuck. The younger one was pretty obviously the hottie's little sister. They had similar coloring, though the little one had freckles. He watched them giggle over something and then the little one said something to the driver, who was still in the car, the engine still running. The older one walked around the front of the car to the driver's side and started pretending to pull on the door handle.

"Mo-om," the girl said. He read her lips clearly even from this distance. The other one was clearly saying something, but her back was turned, so he didn't know what. She gestured with one hand at the restaurant.

_Two girls and their Mom going out to dinner. Wouldn't it be messed up if_...

Nora emerged from the driver's seat.

_God hates me_, Derek thought. _That's the only explanation in this world. God must hate me if I'm gonna be expected to live with this girl and her legs and never lay a hand on her. _

He looked back to see what Edwin was thinking. Ed had been watching too, but he just looked interested. No angst in Edwinville. 7:15 and all's well.

"That's them," Edwin said.

Derek nodded. _Thank you, Captain Obvious_, he thought. He turned back around and planted a fake smile on his face as Nora came over to him, cupping the side of his face and kissing the top of his head. He allowed it, as did Edwin.

Nora cupped his face again, tilting his chin up so that he'd look at her.

"I'm gonna go look for George, so why don't the four of you take a few minutes and get to know each other?" she said. He nodded, and she disappeared into the restaurant.

Edwin sprang into action. He hopped up onto the bench and bowed to both girls. Derek was a little surprised that he didn't kiss their hands. Then, Ed took it upon himself to formally help introduce both girls to Derek, spelling out their names as if he hadn't already been told that the big one was Casey and the little one was Lizzie. They got a kick out of it. Derek shook their hands, quickly, not really wanting to linger. One of his favorite macking techniques involved lingering on a handshake, holding a girl's hand just a little longer than usual, keeping eye contact. Obviously, he couldn't pull any of that here.

The one good thing about all of Ed's theatrics was that nobody seemed to notice that Derek hadn't said word one thus far. Ed could clown around all night if he wanted to. Derek would not complain. He figured that Ed would keep them busy for a few minutes, so he put his head down and tried to give himself a pep talk.

_Several billion girls in the world, dude_, Derek told himself. _Get over it_.

A hand waggled a little in front of him. Then Casey sat next to him on the bench.

"This is really weird, isn't it?" she said. He smiled vaguely.

"I mean--"she began, and then she started to babble a little. He thought that he got some of what she said, at least. There was a little about how nervous she'd been, but then, he could swear that she was talking about dancing with cheese, and that couldn't be right. Then he caught the words "lint roller" and "unsupportive sister."

And she was wearing scented lip gloss. He could smell candy apples from where he sat, as well as some kind of perfume that he couldn't place and—

_Pay attention, you moron!_ Derek thought.

"Hey," Casey said. "Am I talking too fast? Because I do that sometimes, everyone says so. Just tell me if I do it again, okay?"

He blinked, then nodded.

To herself, she said, "Oh my God, you idiot, you just did it again." She smacked her forehead.

"I mean it," She said to Derek. "I really want. You to tell me. If. I. Talk too fast. Again."

Derek nodded again. Casey frowned.

"I mean it," she said. "Don't. Be. Polite. We. Are Family."

Derek bit the insides of his cheeks.

"You're still not getting this?" Casey asked. "What the hell do I—" She turned her head and beckoned Edwin over.

Ed had been talking to Lizzie, having a good time, but they both walked over to see what was up.

"What?" Edwin said.

"I think I'm making a mess here," Casey said. "Can you translate a little?"

Edwin shrugged. "Shoot."

"I'm sorry that I keep babbling," she said.

"What's wrong with you?" Ed signed.

"Go with it," Derek signed back.

Casey looked at Edwin for a translation.

"He says 'no problem'" Edwin lied.

"I'm looking into sign language classes," Casey said.

"You are going to hell," Edwin signed.

"And I swear," Casey said. "I'll learn to e-nun-ci-ate."

"Let her off the hook," Edwin signed.

_I really should_, Derek thought. _Say "I'm just messing with you." Come on, Venturi, you can do it. Don't be a pussy. Open your mouth. _

Casey was still talking, all oblivious. "Maybe. I can get. A tutor?" she said. "A_ tutor_?"

Nora came up behind her, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Casey?" Nora said. "What are you doing?"

Suddenly it was funny again. Casey looked from her mother to Derek and back again. Derek was biting his lip as hard as he could, but he couldn't help but crack a little smile. That's when Casey understood.

"I'm being punked, I think," she said.

Nora shot him a look as Casey stomped through the restaurant doors. _Yep, I'm going to hell_, Derek thought.

Edwin shook his head at him and followed the others inside.

He was left alone with Lizzie, who grabbed his arm to get his attention.

"My sister has no sense of humor," she said. "I'll give you that, but seriously. What are you going to do to fix this?"

He glared at her for a second, hoping she'd back off, but then he decided that he really wasn't fooling anyone, so he said:

"Hell if I know."

"Hey," Lizzie said. "It talks."

He deserved it.

"But you're gonna think of something, right?" Lizzie asked.

"I guess," he said.

She whacked him on the arm. Hard. He was reminded that she was the jock of the family.

"Okay," Derek said. "Yes. Can we go inside now?" He held the door open for her and she went in.

Part Three: Edwin.

The air conditioning was on a little too high in the restaurant. Edwin was okay with it, but everywhere he looked, women rubbed their arms. Women were always cold. He didn't get it.

But when he got to table, he noticed that Casey's face was red and she was trying not to fan herself with her menu.That could only mean one thing: they were in for it bigtime. Or at least Derek was. Edwin hoped it would be only Derek. Truth be told, _he_ enjoyed a little Derek torture himself.

Nora put Edwin in between Lizzie and Casey on one side of the table and Derek and Marti on the other. All the better for Casey to kick Derek under the table. Those shoes she had on looked like they'd hurt. Edwin made a mental note to try real hard not to piss her off, or Lizzie for that matter. Derek was rubbing his arm as he sat down, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why.

Dad knew something was up right away, he just didn't know what. Probably, Nora would tell him and then the yelling would start. But not in public, so they were safe for now. Nora was calm, but Edwin wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Marti didn't have a care in the world, of course, sitting there letting Derek tuck a napkin into her collar. Only he got away with stuff like that. Lizzie also seemed to be in a pretty good mood, mainly because she'd given Derek a good smack.

"So, what's good here?" Lizzie asked, opening her menu.

"I kinda like the chicken strips," Edwin said.

"I like the looks of the mushroom ravioli," Nora said, then she laughed at the look of horror on Edwin's face. "Just for that, I'm gonna make you try a piece. How bout you, Casey?"

"Huh?" Casey said. Then she flapped open the menu and scanned it quickly. "The chicken and mango salad."

"Ew!" Marti said. Lizzie laughed.

"What?" Lizzie said to Casey's dirty look. "You gotta admit that that's a weird combination. Most people would say 'ew' to it."

"We are not most people," Casey said.

"O-kay," Lizzie said. "I might go for the chicken strips. How spicy's the extra spicy?"

"Okay, you rock," Edwin said.

"I know," Lizzie said.

During all of this, Derek had his nose in the menu so that he didn't have to look at anyone. At least he managed to look decently guilty. Plus, Edwin was just realizing that Derek hadn't said a word since the womenfolk got there. Edwin didn't think he'd ever been this quiet. Ever.

_What the hell's that about? _Edwin thought. He tapped on Derek's menu with a butter knife. Derek was lucky that Edwin couldn't reach the rolls right then.

Derek looked up.

"What?" Edwin signed.

"What?" Derek signed back.

Edwin wanted to say a bunch of stuff that he'd get in trouble for. Most of it would've been obvious even to people who didn't sign.

"What is your problem?" he signed eventually.

"Drop it," Derek signed and looked down again.

Edwin was pretty sure that his Dad was watching them even while he made small talk with Casey and Lizzie, so neither of them could be specific. Which meant that Edwin had no choice but to drop it.

Their waitress popped up and went down the line, taking everyone's orders. When she got to Derek, he raised his eyebrows at Edwin who shook his head. If he thought that Edwin was ordering for him, he was nuts. Meanwhile the waitress was flirting with him a little even though Derek was fifteen and she was easily nineteen or twenty.

Derek was forced to order his own cheeseburger with fries and a root beer, and as soon as he spoke, Casey huffed. Edwin and Lizzie looked from one to the other. Casey glared. Derek avoided her until he clearly felt her eyes on him and started to glare back.

"So what'd you say was in that salad, Casey?" Edwin asked.

Her head practically snapped around to face him and she looked at him incredulously. "The salad?" she asked.

"Yeah," Edwin said. "It sounded interesting. I think Rachael Ray might've done something like it before."

"You watch Rachael Ray?" Casey asked.

"Don't you?" Edwin asked.

"Um, not really," Casey said. But she was starting to smile.

"Edwin thinks she's pretty," Marti sing-songed. Right on cue, Edwin blushed.

"Aww," Casey said.

Edwin calmed down by reminding himself that one day Marti would have a boyfriend and then he'd be able to get his revenge.

"I dunno what you're going 'aww' about Miss Adam Brody Posters," Lizzie said.

"Busted," Edwin said.

"May she without Daniel Radcliffe as her screensaver cast the first stone," Casey said.

"I know you're not laughing, Edwin," Lizzie said.

"Who me?" Edwin said, holding back a snort.

Throughout dinner, Edwin noticed that whenever Casey spoke, she'd turn her head slightly to the side or wipe her mouth mid-sentence. All so that Derek would have no idea what she was saying. Edwin guessed that she'd figured out exactly how good he was at lipreading. He'd understood that gum-snapping waitress even. Casey was even more insulted than she'd been before.

On one hand, Derek might've deserved some of that. But on the other hand, it was kinda mean.

Whether he deserved it or not, Derek was super pissed. Edwin had had experience enough to know that when Derek's face went all blank, it was usually time to back away slowly until you could find something to trip him with. Then you could run.

The two of them were really ruining Edwin's chicken fingers for him. He only thanked Almighty God that his Dad and Nora seemed pretty oblivious to it. Edwin and Lizzie decided to tag team Marti so that _she_ didn't notice it. Lizzie sat through Marti's recap of most of the episodes of Dora the Explorer without complaint.

By the time the check came, Edwin wanted to hug the waitress even though the sound of her gum popping drove him up the wall.

Part Four: Nora.

Casey was the first to walk out of the restaurant. She managed to get ahead of everyone else as soon as George got the check. She told Nora that she was cold and wanted to wait in the car. She was about to go after her when George pulled her aside.

"Does this look like a four or a nine?" he asked.

"It's a seven," Nora said.

"You sure?" George said, holding the receipt to the light as Derek wiggled past him and outside after Casey. "I think I might need glasses."

"How'd you get through law school without learning to lie?" Nora asked.

"Ha ha," George said. "The situation called for a diversion. Nothing in the book said it had to be a good one. We just need to give them a couple of minutes to talk things out."

"Are you sure, Georgie?" Nora said. "They might actually kill each other."

"Georgie?" George said, grinning.

"Georgie," Nora agreed, pushing his hair off his forehead. "We're getting off track here. They need a referee."

"What the hell happened anyway?" George asked. "What did he do?"

Nora almost laughed at the fatalistic tone of George's voice when he said that.

"I didn't see it all," Nora said. "I saw Casey speaking really slowly and repeating herself a lot and Derek trying not to laugh."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," George said.

"She was so worried about making a bad impression on all of you," Nora said.

"And Derek played on that, I get it," George said. "There will be repercussions."

"Are you gonna yell at Smerek?" Marti asked.

"We're going to have a discussion, Marti," George said.

That didn't reassure her. She started to bite her thumbnail.

"Um Dad?" Edwin said. "He probably _didn't_ understand her at first . _I _didn't even understand her. She talks a mile a minute."

"It's true" Lizzie said.

"It _is_ true," Nora said. "Edwin, do you think he would have let her off the hook if I hadn't come out right then?"

"In about another minute maybe," Edwin said.

"So what do you want to do?" George asked.

"I want to test my heart rate and see what it says about my future," Nora said. "They have one of those heart rate monitor things in front. I saw it when we came in."


	3. Chapter 3

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Three

Part One: Derek.

"Casey," Derek called as he got outside.

Casey stopped and turned around in surprise. For all of a second. A look of "Oh, it's you" came over her face before she turned and headed toward her mother's car.

"Come on, turn around," Derek said. "You know you want to."

He'd almost caught up with her when she whirled on him.

"Did you just say 'you know you want to'?" She asked. "Are you serious? Does that usually work with you?"

"You turned around, didn't you?" he asked.

That was stupid of him; she not only turned around but broke into a jog. Even with those shoes on. He was going to have to add "broke my step-sister's leg while thinking impure thoughts about her" to his ever growing list of sins. Luckily for him, she only ran a couple steps before the possibility of injury occurred to her, too. She slowed down to a walk, but didn't turn around again, so he took a couple of running steps until he was in front of her.

"Relax for a minute," he said, walking backwards in front of her.

She said something that he didn't catch.

"Say that again?" he said. She did, but it was no good because they'd gotten too far in between streetlamps. She made a twirling motion with one hand as she took another step or two.

"Yeah, right," he said. "So you can go off in the other direction? Don't think—ooof!"

He tripped over a concrete divider and went down on his butt. He laughed a little because he just couldn't help it. He didn't wipe out that often, but when he did, he did it big.

"Ow," he said, still laughing. He looked up to see Casey with her hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking.

"Great," he said. "Laughing at the handicapped. You're just a bad person."

And she _stopped laughing_. She really didn't have a sense of humor. Most people would have just flipped him off. This one looked guilty. He had his work cut out for him.

She held out a hand for him. _Yeah, right,_ he thought. She would probably either pull away as he reached for her or help him up part of the way and let go before he got his balance. That was, if there was any hope for her.

Figuring he deserved it if she dropped him, he took her hand. And she helped him up. Did this girl want to make him feel guiltier for goofing on her? It was working, but he was damned if he'd let her know that.

She started to say something else.

"Okay, seriously? We need to get into the light, because I have no idea what you just said," Derek said. He put a hand on her arm to lead her over, but she pulled away from him and kept walking.

He stopped her directly under the light, maybe three cars away from Nora's little chickmobile.

"Okay now?" she said.

"Yeah," he said.

"I was saying that it's not our parents' fault that we can't stand each other..." Casey said.

"We can't?" Derek said.

"We can't," Casey said. "So I propose—"

"Propose? I thought you didn't like me," Derek said.

"You were so much easier to deal with when you weren't talking," Casey said.

"And here I thought you didn't have a sense of humor," Derek said.

"Who was joking?" Casey said.

Derek smiled in spite of himself. It was a good one.

"So, you were saying?" he asked.

"I think we should at least pretend to get along for our parents' sake," she said. "No need to ruin their wedding. We can avoid each other after that. Fair enough?"

"You really do need to lighten up," Derek said.

"You need to stop being an ass, but I don't think you will," Casey said. "So do we have a deal, or not?"

"Yeah, okay," Derek said. "You're just too much trouble."

"Good," she said. Then she smiled. Who was he kidding? He would put up with obscene amounts of trouble for her smile, even for a fake smile like that one.

"Where are you going?" Derek asked as Casey turned around and started walking back the way they came.

"You're not walking all the way back in those shoes are you?" Derek asked. She flipped him off and kept walking.

Part Two: Casey.

_Creep_, she thought. _The apotheosis of creep. Google the word creep and up comes his myspace, I bet. And these shoes really do kinda hurt, but I'll freaking run a marathon in them before I let him see that. How could he hate me already? Gawd. Well, reject me and I reject you right back, buddy. _

Her mom came outside.

"There you are," Casey said, just a little too brightly. "What kept you?"

"There was a line in the bathroom," Mom said. "Are you ready to go?"

"I've been ready," Casey said.

"Have you two had a chance to talk?" Mom asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "Everything's okay." She _didn't_ cross her fingers, but wanted to.

Edwin walked over. "Is it safe to go back in the parking lot?" he said.

"Very funny," Casey said.

"I do try," Edwin said. He looked past Casey, so she turned around, wondering what he was looking at—Derek was strolling back over to where they all stood.

"Is it safe?" Lizzie asked.

"For now," Edwin said, waving her over. _Look at the two of them_, Casey thought.

"Are you sure," Lizzie said. "Neither of them have holes that they didn't have before?"

Derek laughed. Casey forced herself to crack a smile. She had a sense of humor.

George emerged with Marti on one hip. She was leaning on him pretty heavily, and her eyes were drooping, but both of them seemed to look from Casey to Derek to see if the coast was clear. They didn't have to be so obvious about it.

Marti held out her arms and George handed her off to Derek.

"Hey Smarti," Derek said.

"Hey Smerek," Marti said. "Are you in trouble?"

"Probably," Derek said. "I'm _always_ in trouble."

_Smarti and Smerek?_ Casey thought. Derek cracked his second truly genuine smile of the night. It suddenly occurred to Casey that she could already tell the difference because of the way his eyes crinkled upat the corners. She almost expected there to be a little cartoon sparkle in his eyes, and maybe a little noise, like a _bing_. That only made her angrier.

But at the moment, her Mom and his Dad were still looking at the two of them expectantly. What did they expect them to do? Hug?

"So, Casey," George said. "Is Derek in trouble?"

"You heard him," Casey said. "He's _always_ in trouble."

"Yeah," George said. "It's usually just a matter of degree. So what level are we at?"

"What level was he at before?" Casey asked.

"It's been a slow week. I'd say he's been about four out of a possible ten," George said.

"Dude, you're _slipping_," Edwin said. Derek gave him an little shove with his free hand.

"So I guess he can stay at four for now," Casey said. "I'm sure he'll go up to about twelve before long all on his own."

George laughed, in a "you have no idea" sort of way.

_Good to know. _Casey thought. _Now if you don't mind I need to get home to spend one of the last nights I'll ever have in my own nice comfy room. Maybe if I'm really lucky, I'll get to fire off a couple of heartfelt goodbye emails to the couple of friends who won't be home in time to see me move away._

"It's past my bedtime," Casey said, yawning.

"_You_ have a bedtime?" Marti asked. She said this at such a volume that everyone around her, except Derek, winced.

"Yeah," Casey played along. "Don't _you_?"

"Yes," George said. "She does, and it was half an hour ago."

"It's early," Marti said, yawning. Derek's smile widened as he shifted her a little higher on his hip. Marti put her head on his shoulder even though she wasn't sleepy.

They said their goodbyes. George gave Casey and Lizzie awkward hugs, as did Edwin.

"Casey?" Mom said. "Why don't you and Liz go ahead to the car, and I'll be right there." She handed Casey the car keys. Casey and Lizzie started to clickety clack their way across the lot.

Part Three: Nora.

After the girls headed off toward the car, George turned to his own brood and sent them off, too. He gave Edwin his keys, seeing as how Derek had his hands full with an increasingly droopy Marti.

Edwin signed something to Derek, who smirked.

"We just might if we want to, Ed," George said.

"Ew!" Edwin said as he walked away. "Ew, ew, ew!"

"What, does he think we're gonna make out?" Nora asked.

"How'd you know?" George asked.

"It's one of the few things that causes a twelve year old boy to go 'ew'," Nora said.

"Wanna?" George said, raising an eyebrow.

"Make out?" Nora asked. "Yes, I do, but we should probably hold off till tomorrow."

"Meanie," George teased. "So do you think they made peace?"

"What do you think?" Nora asked.

"Temporary ceasefire," George said. Nora laughed.

"I think that handing him Marti might have helped with the peace process," Nora said.

"Really?" George asked.

"Yeah," Nora said. "Don't tell anyone, but Casey's pretty susceptible to cuteness. It's gotten Lizzie out of trouble before. All she has to do is give her the face..." Nora demonstrated. "And it's all she wrote."

"Good to know," George said.

"Hey!" Nora said.

"But I'll keep it to myself," George said.

Part Four: Edwin.

They strapped Marti in and Edwin checked to see if his Dad was still macking on Nora. When he saw that the coast was clear, he flipped the light on in the car and Derek turned around from the front seat.

"What do you think?" Edwin signed.

"I don't" Derek signed.

"Lizzie was cool," Edwin signed. Derek nodded.

"Casey was okay," Edwin signed. "Should lighten up..."

"Have the stick removed from her butt," Derek signed.

"Not gonna happen," Edwin signed.

Derek shook his head.

"But you like her anyway," Edwin signed.

Derek gave him an "are you nuts" look. But Edwin could tell he liked her.

"She was hot," Edwin signed.

"You're crazy," Derek signed.

The door opened and Dad climbed into the driver's seat.

"Why's Ed crazy?" Dad asked, speaking and signing at the same time.

"Does he need a reason?" Derek said.

A/N: Thought I should take a moment to mention that any sign language used is a translation/approximation. I'm aware that the grammar and syntax of ASL is very differentfrom that of English. Since I'm not familiar with the structure of the language, it would be a total mess if I tried to write it the way it's supposed to be.


	4. Chapter 4

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Four.

Part One: Lizzie.

It wasn't what Lizzie was expecting. It was like they'd gotten all dressed up to wait on line at the DMV.

Casey, being Casey, bought a dress for the wedding at least a week before, but on the actual day, decided that she hated it. Lizzie found her in her room, in her underwear, hair wrapped in a towel, pacing back and forth. She just _couldn't_ wear that dress. People would think she was _such_ a _geek_. People meaning Derek, of course, who would probably call her a geek even while looking down her top. Lizzie rolled her eyes and pulled out three other outfits for her and then hopped into the shower while Casey dithered.

And of course, Casey eventually ended up in the original dress.

Lizzie herself had a dress that her mother surprised her with, and she hopped into it without a second thought. She did have to flip a coin to decide on a necklace, though.

As the last one up but the first one ready, Lizzie went from her sister to her mother, checking on the progress of each. Her Mom seemed to have turned six years old overnight. Lizzie caught her twirling her floaty skirt in the full length mirror. When she giggled, her Mom turned to her, looking a little guilty and embarrassed.

"You don't have to stop," Lizzie said, twirling a little herself.

"I must," Mom said. "I'm the grown-up."

Lizzie blew a little raspberry at that.

"Good point," Mom said. "Which earrings?" Lizzie noticed for the first time that her mother had two different earrings on, one a single pearl and one a teardrop with a light blue stone dangling. Lizzie told her to go with the dangly one.

"Yeah, that's right," Mom said, taking off the pearl. "I need something blue, don't I? And I still need something borrowed."

She looked around the condo, hoping for inspiration to hit, all the while muttering "Borrowed, borrowed, borrowed."

Casey eventually popped up and loaned Mom her crucifix and then they were finally ready to go.

For the ride, Casey burned a gooey mix CD of what she thought of as wedding music. As soon as she saw the burned CD, Lizzie wondered about how Casey'd feel about being made to walk the hundred odd miles to London. Luckily for Casey, the mix turned out to be loaded with Coldspray, Death Cab for Cutie and stuff from the first _Shrek_ soundtrack. Lizzie told herself that if she even caught a hint of Celine Dion, Casey was out of the car. Lizzie didn't like to resort to violence, but she would.

There wasn't as much traffic as her Mom thought there would be, so they were early. And George and Co. were a little late, but so was somebody or other in the judge's office, so it didn't matter. And then the whole wedding was over in, like, ten minutes.

Then they were off to some friend of George's house for a mini reception.

Part Two: George.

"Well, Mrs. Venturi?" George said.

"Yeah, Mr. Venturi?" Nora said. They were waiting just outside his friend Rob's house, waiting to make an entrance. Rob was one of George's best friends in the world, but he'd never understand the man's thing for the dramatic. Why not just walk in and eat their damn pigs in a blanket already?

"Was that presumptuous of me?" George asked. "Do you wanna stick with Leary, or even McDonald?" The whole wedding thing had come about pretty quickly and he started to berate himself for not having thought of something so basic.

"Why would I keep my ex's name after getting remarried?" Nora asked.

"Oh, yeah," George said.

"And I really don't see a reason to go back to my maiden name, unless of course you blow it," Nora teased.

"No pressure," George said.

"Nope," Nora said, grinning.

It occurred to George that he could be happy that, at least, they were alone out there, the kids having been sent ahead. He felt a little bad for Casey and Lizzie being in there and not knowing anyone, but that didn't take away from the fact that George and Nora had a moment of peace, one that wouldn't last long.

"What kind of signal is this guy supposed to give again?" Nora asked.

George started to kiss her. "Do you care?" he asked.

She started to giggle as he worked his way up her neck.

"Guess not," she said.

Then the front door opened on the two of them making out. Nora was loosening George's tie with one hand and making a total hopeless mess of his hair with the other. There were catcalls and cheering.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Venturi," Rob said. He was holding back a snort.

_I'm so gonna get you for that, buddy,_ George thought. He felt his face get hot and could only imagine the shade of purple he was turning. Nora was only a little pink and flatteringly so.

"We're legit, Georgie," she said. "I've made an honest man of you. We can do that all day if we want to."

"We can, can't we?" George said.

"Georgie," Rob snickered.

"Shut it," George said.

Part Three: Casey.

"Have you ever thought of law school, Cassie?" a woman with a loud voice and a Rachel cut asked.

"Um, not really," Casey said. Actually, she had, but she was a little afraid of this woman, and it was making her say stupid things. She was even allowing the woman to call her Cassie, something that she normally would have corrected immediately. She looked around, trying to think of an exit strategy, when Marti came up out of nowhere and tugged at her skirt a little.

"'Scuse me for a second? What's up, Marti" Casey said. Marti beckoned her closer and, when Casey crouched down, whispered that she needed the bathroom.

"Do you know where the bathroom is?" Casey asked the Scary Lady.

"It's on the other side of the stairs sweetie," Scary Lady said. "Beyond the archway, on the left."

"Oh, thanks so much," Casey said as Marti led her away. Once they got through the archway, they seemed to veer off in the wrong direction.

"Your _other_ left, Marti," Casey said. Marti kept going.

"I don't have to go to the _bathroom_," Marti said, like she thought Casey was dense.

"Why'd you say you did?" Casey asked.

"'_Cause_ Daddy said you needed me to come get you away from the loud lady," Marti said. "_Duh_."

"Oh," Casey said. "In that case, thanks, and remind me to thank your Dad." She crouched down a little and pulled Marti into a hug.

"Wrinkling my _dress_," Marti said.

"Oh," Casey said, startled. "My bad."

"S'okay," Marti said. "I forgive you. Now let's go find Smerek."

Marti pulled her toward the buffet table. Derek was there, piling a plate cartoonishly high with finger-food. Casey didn't think that she'd ever seen so many tiny little croissant sandwiches in one place in her life. He got it to a little table without incident and Marti dragged Casey over so they could join him.

"There you are," Derek said.

"Yep," Marti said sitting down. "And look who I found!"

"Didn't I tell you not to pick up everything you find?" Derek said. "You don't know where she's been."

"Happy to see you too, _bro_," Casey said. Derek smiled at her around a mouthful of food. She could see all manner of crud in his teeth.

"Ew," she said to herself.

Derek put a napkin in front of Marti and put a little sandwich on it, then another. She picked one up and nibbled it with both hands, like a squirrel.

"Well," Casey said. "It's been real." She moved to leave, but Marti grabbed her arm. Casey thought she was lucky that the little girl's slightly greasy fingers had touched a bare part of her arm and not any part of her dress.

"Where ya going?" Marti asked.

_To the bathroom_, she thought, but figured that the joke might be lost on both of them. "I thought I'd go get some fruit," she said. There was not a hint of a fruit or vegetable on that entire pile of stuff Derek had. She gathered a small assortment and a couple of extra plastic plates and especially napkins just in case. She put it all down at a chair next to Marti and went back for drinks. By the time she came back with the sodas and plastic cups, a small pile of sandwiches had somehow made it to her plate.

She didn't know what to make of that. She wondered for just a split second if he'd spit in them, but dismissed the thought because: (a.) it was mean of her to think that he'd do such a thing, and (b.) there were too many witnesses milling around. Derek was looking intently down at his own plate, oblivious to the look she was giving him.

"Can I have a grape?" Marti asked, breaking the spell.

"Have a few," Casey said, breaking off a bunch from her bigger bunch. She started to divide the fruit into three portions.

"The turkey ones are good," Marti said, pointing to her sandwiches. "But watch out for the ones with the green toothpicks, because they're eggplant." Marti made a face.

"Did you find that out the hard way?" Casey asked.

"Uh huh," Marti said. "Smerek didn't warn me or anything." She tapped the table in front of her to get Derek's attention. "You're a meanie weenie."

"What'd I do?" Derek asked.

"You let her eat vegetables," Casey said. Derek pointed at Marti and laughed. Marti stuck her tongue out at him.

While they ate, Marti fired off question after question, ranging from "Do you have a boyfriend?" to "Are you a real ballerina?" to "What's your favorite kind of cheese?"

"How do they get the sparkly stuff on the toothpicks?" Marti asked, picking some colored cellophane off of one.

"I don't know, Marti," Casey said.

"Who does?"

"Nobody," Casey said. Marti seemed to accept that.

Once in a while, one of George's coworkers came by to say hello, but thankfully didn't stay long. Casey never knew what to say. Derek handled them pretty well, smiling politely and getting rid of them. It seemed to be a talent of his. But then again, these people had probably known him all his life, Casey guessed, so he had no reason to get all shy around them. That was _her_ job.

Out of the corner of her eye, Casey saw her Mom and George finally find some seats and grab some food. Soon after, some wiseguy, probably George's friend Rob, started clinking his beer stein with a fork, the typical signal that the bride and groom needed to kiss. Some of the other guests followed suit with their soda cans, but the noise was just all wrong. Still, Mom and George got the hint and kissed a little, to renewed catcalls. All of this was in Derek's direct line of vision and he rolled his eyes theatrically when he saw it. Then he turned a little to the side when he got the idea that they weren't done with the making out just yet.

Marti wanted to see more, of course, so she flounced over to their table. Casey was about to do the same, actually, but Derek tapped her on the arm and when she turned to him, he pointed to another corner of the room, where Lizzie and Edwin were at a table by themselves. He got up from his seat and put his hands on Casey's shoulders to steer her closer to them. They were relatively far away, and people were walking around in the way, so it took a second for Casey to see what they were doing. Then she saw it: Edwin was teaching Lizzie a little sign language.

"Awww," she said, as they got close enough to see better.

Then Casey saw Edwin show Lizzie a sign that even _she_ recognized and she gasped a little. She heard Derek laugh beside her. She turned to him in shock.

"You think this is funny?" Casey asked.

"You don't?" Derek asked.

"What's funny about it?" Casey asked. "What could possibly be funny—"

"He's trying to convince her that that's my nickname," Derek said. "Wait up. How do _you_ know what it means?"

"_Mr. Holland's Opus_," Casey said. "It was just on TV. Kid's Dad keeps underestimating him until the kid turns to him and calls him an...an..."

"Go ahead and say 'asshole,'" Derek said. "Lightning won't hit you."

"Well, yeah, he calls him that," Casey said. "You could say it's the first sign we learned."

Derek put his hand on Casey's arm to shush her for a second while he watched the two of them. Lizzie was smiling at Edwin and saying who knew what. Derek laughed a little more.

Casey turned his head toward hers. "Don't you think we should put a stop to this?" she asked.

"No," Derek said.

"No?" Casey said. "What do you mean no?"

He cocked his head to one side and said "Nooo" while signing it at the same time.

"Why the heck not?" Casey squeaked.

"Don't you wanna know what Lizzie just said to Ed?" Derek asked.

"Stop trying to change the subject—" Casey asked. Then, she changed her tune. "What'd she say?"

"I didn't get it all, but she mentioned Mr. Holland, I think, and another movie," Derek said. "_My Big Fat_—"

"_Greek Wedding,_" Casey finished.

"That's the one," Derek said. "She said that I'd know that he taught her to call me an asshole and I'd pound _him_."

Casey snorted, then covered her mouth. She shouldn't be laughing at this. It was so inappropriate, but she was really proud of Lizzie.

"Also," Derek said. "Did you really rent _Children of a Lesser God_?"

"Um, no," Casey lied.

"You dork," Derek said. She blushed.

"Shut up," she said.

"So that means," Derek said. "That you learned all the good stuff."

"No," Casey admitted. "They went too fast, and I didn't get a chance to watch it slowed down before it had to go back."

"So, what do you wanna know?" Derek asked.

"I've decided that I don't _need_ to know those particular signs," Casey said.

Derek smirked, shook his head like he thought she was hopeless and he was very, very disappointed. And for some reason, that made her want to curl up into a ball.

The music, which had been really boring, but relatively low, was turned off suddenly. Then, there was the sound of a little light feedback and George's friend Rob began to address the crowd from what was unmistakably a Karaoke machine. Casey held back a giggle.

"I know that as much as you guys want to hear my award-winning rendition of 'Black Magic Woman,'" Rob began, ignoring the groans that followed. "I want to take this opportunity to turn your attention to the best man. Good-looking kid, looks nothing like his Dad—Derek Venturi, wanna get your butt up here?"

Derek looked like he most certainly didn't want to get his butt up there, but he did what he was told. When he took the microphone, there was a little more feedback, but it wasn't too bad.

"Hey," Derek said. "Can you hear me in the back?" That got some laughs. The room was sorta big, but it wasn't _that_ big.

"So yeah," Derek said. "Room full of lawyers and _I'm_ the one making the speech." He gave a little thumbs-up with his free hand and grinned at his Dad to more laughter. "Maybe it's because I'm more likely to keep it short." More laughs and a couple of groans.

"My...brilliant father, with his..." he pretended to consult a note in his pocket. "Excellent rock star hair...really can't believe his luck that he got Nora to go along with the whole wedding thing. Because she's all classy and stuff, and he follows the five-second rule..." More laughs. "And then there's the three of _us_ to deal with, and, well, _Marti's_ cute. But the rest of us..."

"Hey!" Casey heard from a little behind her. She turned to see Edwin and Lizzie. Lizzie was laughing her head off, but Edwin seemed to be debating whether there should be a public demonstration of the ASL that he just taught Lizzie.

"I'm not counting Nora's daughters in this," Derek continued. "Because they don't count." He ducked as Lizzie threw a rolled up napkin at him. He winked at her. "Okay I'm kidding...maybe."

"So," Derek said, pulling out the notes again, flipping to page two. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury...Dad I told you these were the wrong notes. Anyway, before I get another two days in the tool shed, everyone raise a soda can to Dad and Nora."

There was more soda can clanking and more kissing from Mom and George. Derek handed the microphone back to Rob, who clapped him on the back.

"Okay that's enough of you," Rob said, giving Derek a light push. Derek laughed and headed back toward the table. People kept stopping him and telling him how great he was until he started to look a little embarrassed. Mom stopped him on the way and mauled him the way she always did with Casey or Lizzie when they did something sweet. George gave him a slightly less dramatic hug. He looked shell-shocked by the time he got back to where they'd been sitting.

"What?" he said to Casey as he got back.

Casey was smiling at him hugely, and when she noticed that it bugged him, she did it some more.

"Stop it," Derek said, starting to smile back a little. It didn't look like he could help it.

"Nope," Casey said. "Not stopping. But then again I really don't count so why should it matter if I keep smiling."

Edwin snorted.

"How you gonna get out of this one?" Lizzie asked.

"Guess it doesn't matter," Derek said grinning. The music kicked in again, as did the announcement of Mom and George's first dance. Casey squealed and bounced in place.

"What are you _doing_?" Derek asked.

"Mom and George are gonna dance!" Casey said.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Will the sap _ever_ stop oozing?" he asked.

Edwin shook his head.

Lifehouse's "You and Me"issued from the speakers. The song had played constantly all summer and Edwin rolled his eyes as soon as he recognized it. Casey still liked it, though.

Their parents started to dance. Casey thought that she could almost see George counting the steps in his head and visibly trying not to step on her mother's feet. It almost brought tears to her eyes; it was so damn cute.

After the first chorus, other couples trickled over to join them. Casey tapped Derek on the arm, and then when he looked up, cocked her head toward the dance floor.

"What?" Derek asked.

"Dance with me," Casey said.

"Why would I do that?" Derek asked.

"Because I asked you to," Casey said. She wasn't taking no for an answer. She clamped her hand onto his forearm and pulled him toward the dancefloor. He made it hard, pulling himself in the other direction. He seemed almost willing to chew his arm off to get away from her. She'd have been offended if he hadn't been laughing.

"Should I remind you why I don't dance?" Derek asked.

"Playing the deaf card isn't gonna work," Casey said.

"How bout the klutz card?" Derek asked. "It's genetic. You've met my Dad?"

"I'll take my chances," Casey said. She pulled him a little closer, then realized that this was a horrible idea she'd had.

_Why, why, why_? She thought. What was she thinking, dragging this cute guy—who was now her _brother_—into a slow dance?

She was reminded of the old saying about leaving room for the Holy Ghost. The two of them had room for all the Apostles between them.

But he wasn't a bad dancer. He was looking at her and not at his feet, and he was letting her lead, probably because the bass wasn't up high enough for him to pick up the beat.

_He's done this before_, she thought. _This is a nice surprise. Some girl's gonna be very very lucky to drag him to the prom._

Part Four: Nora.

"Um, Georgie?" Nora said. She had to rattle his arm because he was so intent on counting his steps.

"Huh?" George said.

"We're gonna switch places," Nora said. "And I want you to look real quick and tell me what you see." They made a little turn and George looked over her shoulder.

"Try not to make it so obvious," Nora whispered.

"Well, will you look at that," George said. "Not killing each other or anything."

"Look how far apart they are," Nora said.

"Yeah," George said. "But she got him to dance. His mother was the last one to do that, and that was when he was ten or so. She hasn't been able to get him to do it since."

"He's good at it," Nora said.

"Don't know where he gets it," George said. He moved closer to her again so she could rest her head on his shoulder. He seemed to run into less trouble that way because they didn't have to move around as much.

"Do you think that this might mean a truce?" George joked.

"Too soon to tell," Nora said. _Not to mix metaphors, but,_ Nora thought, _this might be the calm before __the storm. _

The slow song ended, and the old Santana song, "Smooth," started up. As soon as he registered the change, Derek took off like the devil was chasing him. Casey rolled her eyes and flapped a dismissive hand his way.

George followed Derek's lead, as, Nora noticed, did most of the men. It turned very junior high in the room, with nothing but females dancing. Until of course Edwin joined them. He was too young to be a stick in the mud like the others. He danced with Marti, both of them spinning themselves dizzy.

Casey got tired of the random bouncing around and decided that she felt like dancing for real. If Nora didn't know better, she'd think the child was showing off, but she did know better. After about a minute, Casey seemed to forget that there were people in the room with her. This was one of the only times she lightened up and forgot to be self-conscious.

Too bad the first whoop from one of George's co-workers broke the spell. Casey reddened and tried to slink off, but Marti and Edwin wouldn't let her.

Nora wondered why Lizzie wasn't up there with them. Her eyes scanned the room until she found Lizzie sitting with George. That just left Derek unaccounted for. She found him standing off by some French doors, a pane of glass separating him and the small cluster of smokers who'd snuck out for a puff. Nora didn't presume to know the kid too well yet. But she thought that he looked a little depressed. She went over there.

"What's the matter?" she said.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked.

"Thought you looked a little sad," Nora said. It occurred to her that he'd probably lie to her about this, but she had to try. Maybe eventually he'd come to her with stuff when he needed to.

"There's this rumor going around about cake," Derek said. "But I don't see any. I think people are lying to us, actually." He pulled a sad puppy face for her.

"Cake, huh?" Nora said.

"Yep," Derek said.

"Okay," Nora said. "If you ever want to talk about your need for baked goods, I'm willing to listen."

"Will do," Derek said, smiling at her.

She made her way back to the table with George as the song ended and was replaced with another ballad. She didn't push her luck by asking George to dance again. Casey, Edwin, and Marti joined them after a minute. Marti was asking about dance lessons and George was trying not to groan.

They were all momentarily distracted by a slightly tipsy Jenny Cugino, who worked at the Public Defender's office. Everyone seemed to want to turn invisible, crouching slightly in their seats, as if it would've hid them.

"George, that reminds me," Casey said after Jenny'd passed. "Thank you so much for sending Marti over to rescue me before."

"Huh?" George asked.

"You know, when Marti came up and pretended she had to go to the bathroom?" Casey said.

"No idea what you're talking about," George said.

"Um, okay," Casey said, winking. "Say no more."

"No, I mean I really have no idea what you're talking about," George said. "Marti?" He turned to look for her, but the little girl had slipped away. They spotted her hanging out by the French doors with Derek.

Well, it didn't take Columbo to figure out what had happened. It seemed to confuse Casey, though.

Part Five: Derek.

"Spare a dance for your wicked stepmother?" Nora asked.

"What is it with you McDonald women and your dancing?" Derek asked.

"I can put a rush on the cake. I have that power," Nora said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, since you put it that way," Derek said. She led him back out onto the dancefloor. They passed Casey dancing with Dad on the way.

"So tell me about yourself," Nora said. "I already know that you're a better dancer than your father, and a budding stand-up comedian. What else? A girlfriend, maybe?"

"Keeping my options open," Derek said.

"Oh, and you play hockey, too, don't you?" Nora asked. "Team Captain, George says?"

"Yeah," Derek said.

She didn't say anything for a minute. It seemed like she was at a loss for what to say next. He couldn't think of anything either. He continued to let her lead him to whatever gooey song was playing. It had to be gooey; this was a wedding.

"Casey said something interesting before," Nora said.

"Did she?" Derek said.

"She said that Marti came to her rescue before," Nora said. "Apparently Marti told her that George had sent her to do it."

Derek raised his eyebrows.

"George said that it was news to him," Nora said. "So I thought to myself: if George didn't send Marti, who did?"

"Yeah?"

"And I think that your cover is blown," Nora said. "You sir, did something sweet. Admit it."

"Never."

"Can't fool me," Nora said. That actually worried him a little. She did seem to pick up on things. He was an excellent liar, and he got away with a lot, but his Dad caught him more often than he was strictly comfortable with. Now, once Dad teamed up with Nora, things would be just that much harder. God forbid either of them noticed how hard he was crushing on Casey. Watching her dance before had almost made him want to cry. For any number of reasons.

But he'd be okay just as long as Casey didn't find out.


	5. Chapter 5

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein, including James Bond, Photoshop, _Risky Business, _or _All in the Family._No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Five

Part One: George.

A honeymoon might have been nice, but neither George nor Nora could think of a way to make that work, especially with school about to start. They needed to get everyone moved in and at least semi-settled before that happened.

Abby, his first wife and the kids' mother, popped up first thing the next morning to pick up Marti for a couple of days. 

"Where is she?" Abby asked.

"Packing," George said. "In Toronto."

"Well, that could only happen to you," Abby said, giving him a sympathy hug. "Poor George."

"Yeah, yeah," George said.

"And I was looking forward to telling Nora about the time I caught you doing the Risky Business dance," Abby said.

"Nuts," George said, snapping his fingers. 

"Who's nuts?" Marti said from the top of the stairs.

"You," George teased. 

"_You_," Marti said. "Hi Mommy!" She dragged a little pink bag on wheels down the stairs. It clanked down the first three steps until Abby was able to meet her halfway and pick the bag up in one arm and the child in the other.

"So Buggy," Abby said. "Did you have a good time yesterday? Did you dance?"

"Uh-huh," Marti said. "Me and Edwin and Casey 'cause she's a dancer, and Derek a little, but that's 'cause Casey made him, and then Nora made him and I ate eggplant, but that was before I knew what it was. It was kinda gross."

"Sounds like you had a busy day," Abby said. "I'm amazed you were able to get up so early."

"I guess I'm just a morning person," Marti said. George choked on his coffee. _Easy for her to say_, he thought. _Everyone's a morning person when they're six._

"Derek danced?" Abby asked. 

"Briefly," George said.

"How'd Casey and Nora pull that off?"Abby asked. 

"I don't know," George said. He had an idea, though, and it was something he planned to talk with Nora about later. He wasn't looking forward to that talk.

"Well, it was quite a feat, I'm sure," Abby said, putting Marti down. "Two more of those and they qualify for sainthood."

"They have to be older for that," Marti said. George snorted.

"So are the other two demons up yet?" Abby asked. In a miracle of timing, she was answered by the sound of the toilet flushing upstairs.

"You figure that's Archie or Meathead?" George asked.

"Which is which?" Abby asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," George said. 

Edwin came down the stairs with his patented zombie shuffle, not seeming to notice anyone watching him.

"Ahem," Abby said.

"Oh," Edwin said, fuzzily. "Hey Mom." He shuffled past her toward the kitchen. 

"Hey!" Abby said.

"Just kidding," Edwin said. And gave her a hug. 

"Better be," Abby said. "What's the status of the other one?"

"Like his score on the coma scale?" Edwin asked.

"What's a coma scale?" Marti asked.

"Test to see how deeply asleep people are, honey," Abby said. "Should we get out the ice water?"

"I would," George said. 

"Dad_dy_," Marti said. "That's mean."

"Mommy's idea," George said. 

"We're just kidding," Abby said. "We've never used icewater on your brother."

_Yet_, George thought. 

"We should wake him up," Marti said.

"I dunno, honey, maybe we should let him sleep," Abby said. "He's got a long day of work ahead of him. Moving boxes and stuff."

"I wanted to help," Marti said, starting to pout again. 

"But then who'd keep _me _company?" Abby said pouting right along with her. "Besides, we can draw some pictures for everybody. You could be their interior design specialist."

"Nora does that," Marti said. Sometimes the child amazed George with how much information she could absorb.

"Okay," Abby said. "Well you can be the artist in residence. I'm sure that Casey and Lizzie would like some Marti originals."

"Actually," George said. "We should get him moving. He can sleep a little more in the truck on the way, but I need him temporarily vertical."

"I wanna do it!" Marti said. 

Part Two: Abby.

Marti took her cat ears off the bookshelf on her way up the stairs and Abby followed her up. At Derek's door, Marti put a finger to her lips.

"Why?" Abby asked.

"I dunno," Marti said, shrugging. "But it's still part of it. We're being sneaky."

"Oh, okay," Abby said. 

Marti crept into the room, the movements somewhere between that of a cartoon mouse and James Bond. She climbed onto Derek's bed, and crept up to him. Derek didn't move. Not completely unusual. Marti very gently bumped her forehead to his, the way a cat would, then rubbed her head against his. Abby saw one corner of Derek's mouth turn up, final proof that he wasn't really asleep. Then, one arm shot up and pinned Marti to the bed as she squealed. 

"Hey, Devil Kitty," Derek said tickling her. "Who let you in?" 

"Me," Marti said between giggles.

"Thought I cat-proofed the place," Derek said. 

"Nuh-uh," Marti said. "Cats love piles of laundry. That's what Dimi says."

Abby laughed. Marti turned to her and that led Derek to notice his mother standing in his doorway.

"Hey, Mom," Derek said, sitting up and managing to pin Marti again as he did so. He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. Marti pretended to struggle. 

Abby came over and gave her oldest a kiss on top of his head and a one handed hug while he too pretended to struggle against it.

She sat on his bed next to him. "How'd it go yesterday," she asked.

Derek shrugged. "Food was okay," he said.

"How was the dancing?" Abby asked, one eyebrow up. If he didn't think he was gonna get busted for that, he was crazy.

"Never happened," Derek said.

"Your father says that there are pictures," Abby said.

"Photoshopped," Derek said. "Can't prove a thing."

"Yeah, you go ahead and stick to that story," Abby said, grinning. "Like your Dad knows how to use Photoshop. It just renews my hope that I will have you in my clutches again. You will dance with me; I don't care if I have to wait for your wedding." 

Derek shuddered. "I need a shower," he said.

"Yes, you do," Abby said. She shooed him off.

Abby and Marti went downstairs to mooch some of George's cereal. She'd take Marti out to lunch instead. She wanted to hang out a little longer to see if Derek put on cologne. She suspected that he would.

When they got downstairs, she pulled George aside.

"So, how cute is this girl?" Abby asked. 

"What makes you ask a question like that?" George sputtered, after he was finished choking on his second cup of coffee.

"Your son is up there taking a shower to go move boxes around," Abby said. "And need I bring up the dancing thing again? So I repeat: How cute _is_ she?"

George went over to the piano and grabbed the digital camera off of the top of it. He turned it on and hit the advance button a few times then handed Abby the camera. She looked down at the display screen to see a tallish blue-eyed ridiculously cute teenage girl grinning goofily at the camera.

"Oh George," Abby said, shaking her head.

"I know," George said. "This could be a problem."

"Maybe," Abby said. "Think she likes him, too?"

"Too soon to tell," George said. "Gotta wait and see, I guess. Maybe familiarity will breed contempt and they'll turn into siblings?"

"Yeah," Abby said. "But you're gonna talk to Nora about it, right?"

"Yeah," George said.

"Though she might have seen it herself," Abby said. "Edwin told me that she's smarter than you. Sounds like_ we_ might get along just fine."

"Uh-oh," George said.

She gave him a playful shove back to the kitchen. 

Sure enough, twenty five minutes later, a cloud of cologne and hair product with a boy inside of it came downstairs. 

Part Three: Derek.

A two hour drive with Dad and Edwin in a rented truck. There was a screenplay in there somewhere, Derek was sure of it. It would be his first foray into the horror genre. Not to mention his first screenplay. How hard could it be?

Edwin tried to read a book. How he could do that in a bouncing moving truck without puking, Derek would never figure out. Meanwhile Dad tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and sang along with the radio. Derek could see Edwin trying to tune him out, but once in a while, Derek caught Edwin singing along, too. Derek himself was immune to this particular brand of geekery and immune to the torture that came along with it. 

Derek mostly kept himself entertained by staring out the window at everything that passed. They left the house at an unholy hour and managed to avoid the worst of the traffic, but every once in a while, got caught in what Derek thought of as a minijam. That was when he scanned the other cars for girls. If he found no cute girls, he went in search of dogs. If there were no dogs, he looked for bumperstickers and the odd American license plate. 

Once or twice he got to get kids in minivans to watch him ostentatiously pick his nose. He'd perfected the technique in the years since his Dad taught him how to do it. He made it look so good that people almost expected his finger to poke out of the top of his head. Worked every time. By the time the non-driving parent got around to asking what the kids were laughing at and they pointed, Derek would be sitting perfectly poised like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. 

One thing he most certainly did not do during that long ride to Toronto was think of Casey. Didn't think of her one bit. She was part of the wallpaper as far as he was concerned. He'd have trouble fighting her for the bathroom and if they let her, she'd infect the whole house with her perky, but she would not get him.

He bet that she had a room full of little porcelain knick-knacks, like his grandmother had, and that, if he got stuck carrying them, she'd follow him the whole way down wringing her hands. Maybe he could make Ed carry them.

Or she could have large, framed posters of kittens that he would be stuck dealing with. 

_Stop it_, he thought in the first of many attempts to push this girl and her potentially cutesy room out of his head. It was actually starting to work until they got there.

Dad sent Derek and Edwin ahead while a security guard pointed him toward a loading area in the back of the complex. Nora or somebody buzzed them in and they hopped the elevator up to the second floor.

_At least there's an elevator_, he thought.

When they got to the door, Nora was waiting to maul them with another one of her hugs. Derek allowed it, trying to stay on her good side so that she wouldn't make him deal with the heaviest stuff.

As expected, Edwin and Lizzie teamed up immediately, leaving Derek with an incredibly cranky-looking Casey.

"How ya doin," Derek said. He was met with a dirty look. _What the hell does she have to be so pissed about_, he thought. _It's not like she had to ride in the truck for two hours with the gas passer over there._ Then he remembered. _Oh yeah. Moving. New school, shared bedroom. Got it. _

But none of that was his fault or his problem so he didn't think much about it. He grabbed the first random box he came to and hefted it up. It was heavier than he thought. And she stopped him, pointing to the word "fragile" that she'd written all over the thing. 

"Wow," he said. "Guess that means I can't toss it out the window then, huh?"

"MOM!" she said. Nora must've answered her from the other room and the answer clearly didn't make Casey happy. 

"Look, can you just please try not to break anything?" Casey said.

"Yes, ma'am," Derek said. He went out into their hallway where Nora stopped him and pointed toward a dolly she'd gotten her hands on somehow. They were supposed to load it up and cut down on the number of trips they took.

"Best. Stepmom. Ever," Derek said.

Casey, as it turned out, had written "Fragile" on every single solitary box that had come out of her room. A good amount of it she carried herself, not trusting anyone's hands but her own. He half wanted her to trip with her hands full of stuff. That would be poetic justice. 

Dad and Nora got stuck with mattress duty and all four kids got the hell out of the way because neither of them looked like they had a handle on the large, unwieldy things. The mattresses went in first.

Casey took it upon herself to tell everyone how they should arrange things on the truck. Nora and Dad at least pretended to listen, but Derek got through it by pretending he wasn't looking when she gave orders. Lizzie was afraid of her and, after a couple of hours, so was Edwin, but Derek was not as easily intimidated. At least not when she wasn't in a short skirt.

"De-_rek_!" Casey said, splitting his name neatly in half. "I told you that the boxes need to go left to right, so that there's a path between them!"

"Sorry," he said, shrugging. "Must've missed that." He hip-bumped the boxes over a few inches so that the path was cleared. "Problem solved."

Apparently that ticked her off. He'd started to walk back out of the truck to make his next trip when she put a hand on his shoulder to make him turn around.

"What are you trying to do?" she asked. "Are you trying to make this hard?"

"Make what hard?" he asked, trying not to smirk. 

"Oh, I don't know," Casey said. "Everything?"

"Everything?" he asked. "I've just been carting all your crap around, Princess. You really should be thanking me."

"Don't. Call. Me. PRINCESS!" she said. He saw the cords in her neck stick out and a little bit of spit fly from her lips. So she was really yelling. 

_Ooooh_, he thought. _This would not be a good time to smile_. But smile he did. She yelled something else at him that he didn't catch and stormed out of the truck, hopping out of the truck bed and landing hard on the blacktop. She got up and stomped back to the door to grab the next batch of stuff. He counted to ten and decided it was safe to follow her out. Anything she threw would probably miss him anyway. 

Dad was waiting for him in the doorway when he got back to the building. 

"What did you do?" Dad asked, wasting no time.

"I don't know," Derek said. "I didn't bow correctly or something."

"Look at me, son," Dad said. "Does this look like the face of someone who's in the mood for jokes?"

"I'm not really joking..."

Dad held a hand up. "She is yelling right now fit to wake the dead." He counted on his fingers "Let's see, so far: you've ignored every suggestion she's made. You actively do the opposite of everything she says. You're doing it just to mess with her. That last part I believe. Now why?"

"She's been trying to order me around all day," Derek said. "I don't take orders from her."

"How bout _I_ order you to keep the peace?" Dad said.

"I'm not the one disturbing the peace," Derek said. 

"Derek," Dad said. He shook his head and started rubbing at his forehead in that guilt-inducing way he had. "Can you just try not to actively bug her? Just go along with it for now?"

Derek wanted to ask how he was actively bugging her, and why exactly it was that this chick was suddenly running the show, and why everyone seemed to think that it was acceptable. But he accurately assessed that his Dad would make his life miserable if he didn't just go with it and let the princess have her way this time.

Part Four: Nora.

"Casey, you are driving everybody crazy," Nora said.

"What?" Casey said. "How could you say something like that! I'm the one who's trying to make the best of a difficult situation! Derek—"

"Derek is carrying our boxes and furniture around on the last Saturday morning of his summer vacation," Nora said. "And he's not complaining about it or even doing a bad job."

"But I had a system!" Casey said. "A very detailed system!"

"That he more or less followed anyway," Nora said. "By using his common sense. So what's the big deal?" She said this even though she had a pretty good idea what the big deal was. Casey had been in a mood all day, long before the boys got there. Nora suspected that it finally hit Casey that she really was moving out of the room that she'd made her own since the divorce. It had been so hard for her to adjust to the condo in the first place; Casey didn't do well with being uprooted. And now she was being uprooted again and taking it out on a poor kid who had a crush on her a mile wide. _Well, at least that takes care of the crush,_ Nora thought.

"Is Derek the one you're really mad at, honey?" Nora asked.

Casey sputtered, gesturing toward the door and said, "Yes!!" Then she sat down on a box of books and said "No."

"That's what I thought," Nora said. "You're mad at me."

"No," Casey said. "I just don't wanna move. And I know I have to, but I'm just kinda mad at the situation, I guess."

"That's normal," Nora said. "Could you maybe not take it out on anybody though?"

"I guess," Casey said, looking appropriately guilty.

"And apologize to Derek?" Nora said.

"Oh God," Casey said.

"Gotta do it," Nora said. "May as well get it over with."

Part Five: Lizzie.

During all the drama, Lizzie and Edwin were left to their own devices. They carried some of the lighter stuff, framed pictures, small boxes, bags of clothes and the like, and they took their time with it all. They had a lot in common especially when it came to avoiding their older siblings. 

"My door sticks," Lizzie said. "Only on really humid days, but Casey doesn't know that. Sometimes I wedge a chair under my doorknob."

"I constantly spit in Derek's cereal," Edwin said. "And I left pieces of shell in his eggs until he said no more eggs."

"Nice," Lizzie said, grinning. "I guess I can't keep her out of my room anymore, though, huh?"

Edwin put his arm around her. "We'll figure something else out." 

"Don't. Call. Me. PRINCESS!" they heard all the way from the parking lot.

Edwin sighed. 

"Here we go," Lizzie said. 

"Which one of these is the sticky door?" Edwin asked. Lizzie laughed.

"Gee Dad," Edwin said. "I don't know how it happened. Somehow the door swung closed and we couldn't get it to move again!"

"My Mom won't fall for it," Lizzie said.

"Heck," Edwin said, snapping his fingers.

"Heck?" Lizzie said. Edwin shrugged. 

They took the stairs down and again took their time about it. There was more yelling from Casey, slightly muffled this time. It seemed like someone, probably Mom was talking her down. That was a good thing. Otherwise Lizzie and Edwin might have to go back upstairs.

The two of them, each with a small box in hand, came through the garage and out to the truck just in time to witness the main event. 

Casey was standing in front of Derek and she was twisting her charm bracelet, a sure sign that she was about to eat a little crow. This was gonna be good.

Derek meanwhile was doing his best to avoid looking at her until George gave him a look and he had to turn back to Casey.

"Um," Casey said. "I just wanted to say that—well I've been yelling at you all over the place and" She turned to Mom who nodded back toward Derek.

"I guess I've been nagging you," Casey said. "And I'm sorry about that. It wasn't fair to you."

"Well," Derek said. "Now was that so hard?" George gave him a little shove.

"I mean, I'm sorry, too," Derek said.

He didn't look that sorry for whatever it was that he did, but Casey seemed to take it anyway.

"So now can we get something to eat because I'm pretty sure that there are laws against making minors do manual labor and not at least feeding them," Derek said. "Maybe something greasy, yes?"

Lizzie looked down at her watch and realized that it was almost three o'clock. They'd been at it for—she didn't know how long, but lunch was very overdue. Her stomach rumbled, annoyed at having been woken up so suddenly.

George ran to the deli around the corner and got sandwiches and chips, which everybody woofed down in relative peace. 

After they ate, they went back upstairs and got the last of the stuff to load into the truck. Mom was coming back the next day to sell off the furniture they weren't taking with them, but they were all officially going to London forever. Casey teared up a little, but climbed into Mom's car without too much more drama. 

Lizzie sorta wanted Edwin to ride back with them, but she didn't ask if he could, so she rode all the way to Toronto with an overly cheerful Mom and a depressed Casey.


	6. Chapter 6

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein, including _How to Win Friends and Influence People_ which I have never read. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Six

Part One: George.

Seeing all of the boxes out of the truck and realizing exactly how much of the stuff belonged to the girls made George realize that he didn't really plan things too well. This was reinforced by the sight of Casey coming down the stairs while breathing into a paper bag. She had just seen the room that she was going to be sharing with Lizzie.

But as much as she really seemed to want to, (and he didn't blame her) she didn't throw a fit. Not then, anyway. God Bless her. So he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that he had a stay of execution, something that would buy him some time before he figured some things out.

Until of course, Derek had to open his mouth. Kid just _had _to laugh at her. He almost deserved what he got a few days later. Almost.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understood that," Derek said. "Because I _know_ you didn't just say that you wanted my room."

"No, you got it right the first time," Casey said.

"Oh no," Lizzie said.

"Here we go," Edwin said. They managed to disappear, taking Marti with them. "NO! I wanna _see_!" Marti said, as they dragged her away.

"Um, Dad?" Derek said.

"Sorry, Casey," George said. "That's off the table."

"Let's think about this for a minute, George," Nora said.

"Say wha?" George said.

"I just think that you shouldn't take anything off the table until we've thought about it some more," Nora said. George could swear that he saw bolts of lightning go off in the room.

He held up a hand to quiet both Derek and Casey. "I say we all just sleep on it and have a rational talk in the morning."

"Rational?" Derek said. "Good luck with that."

"Shut it," George said.

"But you're not gonna let this happen," Derek said.

"This conversation is over until tomorrow," George said.

He and Nora took it upon themselves to make their exit, both of them playing it as cool as they could, but it was like taking an evening stroll in the shadow of Mt. St. Helens.

They got to the top of the stairs before the screaming started.

Derek did not, as a rule, yell. It was hard enough for the kid to modulate his voice, so he didn't like to put himself in any kind of situation where he'd lose control of it, because it was so hard to get it back to normal.

So that went out the window.

"You're crazy! You are actually straight-jacket, padded room, no sharp objects CRAZY!" Derek yelled.

"Well the sooner you get lost, the sooner I can put the padding UP!" Casey yelled.

"Sorry to burst your crazy bubble _Princess_, but that ain't gonna happen!" Derek yelled. The kid had some lungs on him. George tended to forget his son's singular ability to raise an unholy ruckus. Derek reminded him maybe once a year.

"We need to break this up," Nora said.

"We really do," George said.

"I TOLD you about that PRINCESS thing!" Casey yelled. _Derek has met his match_, George thought. He was mentally adding antacids, aspirin, and earplugs (_oh my_) to his shopping list.

"If the GLASS SLIPPER FITS!" Derek yelled.

"If I guess your name, will you DISAPPEAR?" Casey yelled.

George grabbed Derek and Nora grabbed Casey. George noticed that Casey put up much less of a struggle than Derek did, so he couldn't help but wonder if he'd gone for the wrong kid. Derek wouldn't put up this much of a fight with Nora. He put a hand over Derek's mouth and dragged him away before he could do any more damage.

He got Derek into the kitchen and shut the pocket doors.

"Boy, what's in your head?" George signed. Not that he didn't know the answer.

Derek glared at him with his arms folded across his chest and said nothing.

Part Two: Nora.

"Casey, what were you _thinking_?" Nora said. "Did you think that walking in here and demanding Derek's room would _possibly_ have a good outcome? Did you? Are you running some kind of temperature? How could you think that this was a good move to make?"

Casey opened her mouth but Nora cut her off.

"Know what, Case?" Nora said. "Going on the attack so quickly is not the way to build a relationship. Nowhere is this listed in _How to Win Friends and Influence People._ I mean, can you explain it to me?"

Casey opened her mouth and was cut off again.

"No no no no," Nora said. "Don't bother. Before you put your foot in your mouth again, you should just go to bed. We all need to leave this until morning, like we were supposed to do in the first place."

Casey stood there with her mouth open, still breathing hard.

"Bed," Nora said. "I mean it. It'll be better to talk about all of this after we all cool off. So go."

Casey stomped her way up the stairs, rattling the framed pictures as she went. _Poor Lizzie's gonna get the worst of this_, Nora thought as she heard Casey sobbing all the way to her room.

After a few minutes, the kitchen doors opened and George poked his head out.

"Coast clear?" he asked.

"For the moment," Nora said.

"Good deal," George said. He gave Derek a light push. "Go upstairs," George said to Derek. "Make this worse and I will know about it. Understood?"

Derek nodded and went upstairs without a word.

George and Nora looked at each other wide-eyed, neither knowing what to say to this. Until George broke the spell.

"We're really gonna have to make this up to Lizzie," he said. "Do you think she'll take cash or will we have to go shopping?"

"Why, Georgie," Nora began. "Whatever do you mean? It's not like she's sharing a room with Maria Callas or anything."

George laughed. "Maria Callas? Has nothing on Casey McDonald."

"Can't believe you got that," Nora said. "Dennis used to look at me like I'd grown a second head when I made opera references."

"I'm Italian," George said. "Half, anyway. I got my required dose of opera growing up."

"Oh my God," Nora said. "What've we gotten ourselves into?"

"Trouble," George said.

"Least I guess we don't have to worry about the crushes anymore," Nora said. She was surprised that she'd said that out loud.

"Are you kidding," George asked. "The crushing is in _overdrive_. Red Alert, even. Neither of them would've managed that volume otherwise. I'd say we need to include dealing with that in our plan of action."

"So you saw it, too?" Nora asked. "It wasn't my imagination?"

"The boy danced with her, Nora," George said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"And she made him dance in the first place," Nora said. "Oh God."

"I might have an idea," George said. And a brilliant idea it was, too. It would take a lot of work and tax the resources of most everyone in the house, but it would solve the space issue once and for all.

After all, what teenage girl doesn't want to have a large basement bedroom (with its own bath) to herself?

As it turned out, Casey, that's who.

Eventually, after more fighting between the two little monsters, inspiration hit Nora and she came up with the idea that she and George should take the basement room.

"What?" George said, when she brought it up. Maybe she should've brought it up earlier but she was afraid he'd say no even though they'd exhausted every other possibility. He eventually caved, God bless him, even when the power to veto the whole thing was in his hands. It was the best idea, after all.

Part Three: Casey.

A couple of weeks went by and things began to smooth out, or so Casey thought. The next crisis actually came during the last week of September.

Casey's Mom called her and Lizzie into the kitchen on Wednesday afternoon to give her the news about the ASL class she'd found. Mom was so excited that she'd found a class that they could all take together and had used terms like "family bonding," and even though Casey thought that the idea of bonding with Derek was out the window, she was still excited to take the course. Couldn't wait to start, in fact. Mostly because she hated not knowing what Derek, Edwin, and Marti were saying right in front of her.

"It meets Saturday, from eleven to two," Mom said. "Starting this weekend. There's a textbook and it comes with a DVD—"

"Saturday?" Casey asked.

"Yeah, sweetie, this Saturday," Mom said. "Why?"

"Remember the dance class that I wanted to take?" Casey said. "Saturdays, ten to twelve?"

"Oh my gosh, I forgot all about that," Mom said.

"Mmhhm," Casey said.

"Dammit," Mom said. "Are there any other dance classes you can take?"

"That was the last one with spots open," Casey said. "Unless you count beginner's hip-hop and I took that one when I was eleven."

"Well there has to be more," Mom said, picking up the course catalog that she'd been showing them. "Hey! Here's...Intermediate Step Dancing. No, guess not."

"And anyway, you already put down a deposit on the class I wanted," Casey said.

"Oh that's no big deal. I can get that refunded for another two weeks," Mom said.

"Sure, _that_ you remember," Casey snarked.

"Okay, Casey, I admit that I made a mistake here, but that doesn't mean you get to use that tone with me," Mom said. "I am trying to fix things, so just what is your problem?"

"Maybe I'm just sick of having to give up everything I love for the sake of this family," Casey said.

"What have you had to give up?" Mom asked. It seemed like her mother was trying not to laugh, like she was about to call Casey melodramatic again, and that was just too much. Especially since she was convinced that she was really right this time.

"My school, my friends, my room—"

"You have a _big_ger room," Mom said. "And you've made friends."

"_One_, Mom," Casey said. "I've made _one_ friend. Emily Davis is the _one friend _I have in an entire school full of people."

"Is she chopped liver?" Mom said.

"You're putting words in my mouth!" Casey said.

"Guys?" Lizzie said.

"No, you're putting your foot into your own mouth," Mom said. "_Again_."

"Guys," Lizzie said.

"I mean why do I have to give up my dance class?" Casey asked. "Is this really the only sign language class you could find? In the whole town?"

"Guys!" Lizzie said. "Mom and Casey! Do you wanna listen to me for a second!"

"What?" Casey and her Mom said at the the same time. They both turned to Lizzie, who'd been leaning against the kitchen table and they noticed for the first time that she was no longer standing there alone. Edwin came over and stood next to Lizzie, looking about as nervous as she did, and Derek stood not too far from the both of them, by the pocket doors, looking highly amused.

Mom put a hand up to cover her face. Casey rounded on Derek.

"When did _you_ get here?" Casey yelped.

"I dunno," Derek said. "Couple minutes ago."

"So you just stood there and _watched_ us?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Derek said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I love it when your face gets all red like that."

"Oh, Derek," Mom said, shaking her head.

"If you have nothing _useful_ to contribute, why don't you just grab whatever food you were planning to stuff your face with and go park it in front of the TV like you always do?" Casey asked.

"This is _way_ better than TV, and I do have something useful to contribute, since you asked," Derek said.

"What could you possibly have to say that would be at all useful?" Casey asked.

Derek shrugged. "I think you should just take your dance class." And with that, he turned and went to the living room.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Casey asked to his retreating back.

"Um, Casey?" Edwin began.

"Yeah, I know. I know," Casey said, following Derek.

He climbed into his chair, grabbed the remote control and was poised to hit the power button when Casey got between him and the TV.

"What did you mean by that?" Casey asked.

"I was speaking English," Derek said. "You do understand English, don't you?"

"What kind of mind games are you playing?" Casey asked.

"Could you not block the TV?" Derek asked.

Casey growled in frustration and ran upstairs. Where she stayed through dinner.

Part Four: Derek.

Meatloaf. He poked it with his fork for a minute before deciding that it even though it looked completely grayish and horrible, it smelled okay, so it must be edible. He took a couple of tentative bites and then went after it in earnest, becoming oblivious to everything around him. It took him a couple of minutes to even notice that the drama princess was missing in action. No matter. More ugly meatloaf for him.

Later on, he was hanging out in his room with Edwin. Ed was trying out his newest material on Derek. Never mind the fact that Edwin's newest material contained some of the oldest jokes in the world. There was nothing on TV anyway. Derek was about to suggest that Ed try some of the jokes out on Marti—after all, they'd be new to her—when Edwin shushed him.

"What?" Derek signed.

"You won't believe it," Edwin signed. He pointed to the vent at the bottom of his wall.

"I can hear everything that's going on in Casey's room," Edwin signed.

"Who cares?" Derek signed.

"Trust me," Edwin signed. "Okay she's on the phone...with Emily."

"Next door Emily?" Derek signed.

"Yeah, Casey feels guilty and...is going to tell Nora to get the money back for the dance class. She didn't want to make everyone mad at her. It's not worth it, she says..."

"Does she know you're listening, Ed?" Derek signed.

"Shut up...she says she wanted to take a signing class, just not that one..."

"That's what she said before," Derek signed. "Why are we interested in this?"

Lizzie passed by and saw what they were up to. Edwin put a finger to his lips and waved her in. They both listened a little more. Lizzie's eyes got wide.

"She's gonna quit her dance class," Edwin signed. "Don't you think we should talk her out of it?"

"Don't care," Derek signed. He yawned theatrically. Lizzie picked up a wadded up dirty sock and threw it at him. He saw it coming and just barely dodged it. She had good aim.

"What the Hell?" he mouthed at her. Lizzie went over to the grate and closed it. Then she closed the door.

"You're such a pig," she said. "How could you act like you don't care what she does?"

"Because I don't care what she does," Derek said.

"She's taking a sign language class for _you_," she said.

"I didn't ask her to," Derek said.

"You don't have to ask," Lizzie said. "We're _family_. _I'm_ taking it, Mom's taking it and Casey's taking it. Because we _want_ to, you jerk!" He was sitting at his desk and Lizzie, tiny thing that she was, was standing over him, her head waggling from side to side like she was going to whomp his ass in the schoolyard and that made him lean back a little in fear.

Then a certain part of his brain kicked in, the part that wondered exactly how this little tiny runt-of-the-litter Princess's Mini-me got the idea that she was the boss of him. Who said that she could talk to him like that?

He sat up straight. She wasn't expecting that, so she hopped back a little in surprise.

He affected a look of disbelief. "Did you just call me a jerk?" he asked. This type of thing always worked on Edwin.

"Yeah," she said. "You don't like it? Stop acting like a jerk."

"Little girl, that is just not acceptable," Derek said.

"Just help me talk her out of it?" Lizzie said. She changed tactics, giving him the big sad face and then just turned on her heel. Edwin's eyes followed her around the room like he couldn't believe what he'd just seen.

"That was awesome," Edwin said.

Derek glared at him.

"I mean, unacceptable," Edwin backtracked. "Just like you said."

This was going to be hard to deal with. Derek had always thought that if he believed hard enough, he could do away with his conscience, and his life would be that much easier. On days like these, though, when little freckly stepsisters threw socks at him, the logic just didn't work out.

He rolled his eyes in frustration and got up from his desk when he saw Casey passing by.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She jumped and looked at him in astonishment. Her eyes were puffy, but at least they weren't red. It looked like she was done crying for the moment. If she cried in front of him, he'd fall to pieces.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" he asked again.

"Going. Downstairs," she said.

"Why?"

"Last I checked, I didn't need your permission," Casey said. "So I don't need to tell you anything."

"Fair enough," Derek said, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Good," Casey said, turning away from him and heading downstairs.

"I just hope you're not off to talk to your Mom about quitting the dance class or anything stupid like that," he said as she walked away.

She turned and looked up at him. "Why do you care?" she asked.

"I don't," Derek said.

"Then why are you telling me what to do?"

"I'm not," Derek said. She looked at him like she couldn't begin to figure him out. While he sorta liked that, even he had to admit that it was too late at night to be evasive and confusing. It seemed sadistic.

"Okay, listen," he began. "You wanna stay in your dance class. If it wasn't important to you, you wouldn't have thrown that really entertaining hissy fit that you threw today."

"Derek," she began.

"Zip it," Derek said. "Aliens seem to have taken over my body and you should take advantage of it while it lasts. Now, as I was saying. You want that class really bad. So you should stay in it. You don't have to do the sign language thing at all..."

"I want to," Casey said. "Will you stop trying to put me off—"

"Aliens, remember?" Derek said, holding a hand up. "I'm saying that you don't _have_ to. But if you _want_ to, you can find more classes. You don't need to do it right this minute. It's extra. You're being...nice...Hopefully we'll cure you of that habit. If you still wanna tell your Mom something, tell her to give it a couple days and you'll find another class."

"Would you help me find one?" Casey asked.

"I did _not_ say that," Derek said. "I don't help."

With that, he turned, went back into his room and shut the door before she could hug him or something.


	7. Chapter 7

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Seven.

Part One: Emily.

When Emily Davis finally made her way to the lunch table, she was greeted by the sight of her newest friend in keener overdrive. In one hand she had a folded over course catalog and in the other, she had a pink highlighter. Scattered around her were sticky notes, 3x5 cards and more highlighters in yellow and blue. There was a pencil tucked behind her ear and she was bent over the booklet, her lunch forgotten next to her. Emily thought that the only thing that was missing, the only thing that would complete the picture, were little cat-eyed Lisa Loeb glasses. Maybe with rhinestones on the edges. She made a mental note to suggest that she and Casey dress as fifties librarians for Halloween. She'd look into parties in the area. It would be so cute.

She shook herself. _Focus, Emily_, she thought. Her first move was supposed to be to find out what in the world her friend was up to. Then, she'd have to alert the same friend to the fact that Tinker Tomlin was trying to catch her eye from the other end of the table. He was a little short, but kinda cute in a Buddy Holly meets Percy Weasley way. Casey could do worse.

"Case?" Emily tried.

"Mmhmm?" Casey said, without looking up from her work.

"What are you looking for?" Emily asked, and was immediately sorry she butted in. Casey told her everything about the fight with her Mom and her dance class and how it clashed with an ASL class her Mom wanted her to take for Derek and how she needed to find another ASL class to take or else she'd lose the dance class.

"Are you sorry you asked," Casey asked, one corner of her mouth turning up.

"No," Emily lied. "May I?" she asked, gesturing for the booklet.

"The ones I marked in pink are maybes," Casey said. "The blue ones might be too expensive, and the yellow ones meet during the week, so they're the last resort."

Emily nodded as if she were listening. She put a finger in the booklet to mark the page Casey was on and looked at the cover for a second. "Hmm," Emily said.

"What?" Casey said.

"This the only booklet you have?" Emily asked.

"Do you know of any others?" Casey asked.

"Have you tried the community center on Marten Street?" Emily asked.

"Where's Marten Street," Casey asked. "I'm new, remember?"

"Marten's off of Oak," Emily said. "Maybe a few blocks away from Prescott."

"My dance studio's on Prescott!" Casey said. "Ooh! Maybe that's a sign? A good omen? Not that I believe in that stuff."

"_I_ do," Emily said. "But anyway, why don't we go on the computer during study hall and check the community center web site and see what we can come up with?"

"I have to meet with my guidance counselor during study hall today," Casey said.

"Okay," Emily said. "Then why don't I go on the website and let you know what I find?"

Casey squealed and hugged Emily across the table. "You are so awesome!"

"So they tell me," Emily said. She wondered if she should be shooting Tinker a dirty look for checking out Casey's butt. She settled for an "I know what you're up to" smirk. He blushed.

"Do you really think you'll be able to find anything?" Casey asked right before she took a bite out of her probably cold mac and cheese.

"Oh yeah," Emily said. "It's where I took_ my_ first ASL class."

"You didn't tell me that!" Casey said. "You took sign language? More than one class?"

"Yeah," Emily said, realizing that she shouldn't have told her that. Could her crush on Derek _be_ more pathetic if she tried?

"So I guess you don't hate Derek so much after all," Emily said, trying to change the subject a little.

"I never said I hated him," Casey said. "I said I didn't _like_ him."

"Well that clears that up," Emily said.

"Last night, I went on my computer," Casey said. "And somehow every time I click on something, the computer _burps_. He must've made Edwin do it. _And_ he got me with the whipped cream feather trick."

Emily laughed.

"It's not funny!" Casey said. "I really didn't know what I was getting into when Mom told me I might have brothers and another little sister. I mean, Marti's _six_. I don't know what the other two's excuse is."

"They're _normal_?" Emily said.

"How could this be normal?" Casey asked.

"Let's see," Emily said. She looked at the other end of the table at the kid next to Tinker. "Hey Sheldon?"

Sheldon Schlepper dropped the book he'd been reading and looked up at Emily wide eyed.

"Can I ask you something?" Emily asked.

"Um...Sure?" he said.

"Okay," Emily said. "Well...what would you say to someone who pranks you constantly, borrows your stuff without asking and basically makes your life a living Hell?"

"Stop hogging the remote, or I'm telling Mom?" Sheldon deadpanned.

"Does that answer your question, Case?" Emily asked.

"I guess," Casey said. "So I can't expect an end to this?"

"Nope," Emily said. "You're family now." She patted Casey on the shoulder.

Part Two: Paul.

"Okay, I get it, Paul," Casey said. "I might have misinterpreted your advice from last time."

"I just meant you should look into closet organizers," Paul said, his eyes bugging. "Standing wardrobes maybe? Who knew you'd try to evict your stepbrother?"

Paul Greebey hadn't known what he'd been in for when he talked Casey McDonald into keeping her weekly appointment with him. She was a good kid; he could tell that much right away. She was bright, observant and almost too willing to talk. If nothing else, she'd keep him entertained.

"I didn't really want to _evict_ him," Casey said. "I just wanted to wipe the smirk off of his face, and if I got his room and he got the basement in the process, well, so much the better. It was a win-win, I thought."

"But now you know better, I hope?" Paul asked.

"I guess," Casey said.

"You guess?" Paul asked, eyebrow raised.

"I'm kidding," Casey said. "My Mom and George were actually really cool about it in the end, so I guess that's one problem out of the way. We still all fight over the bathroom and stuff, though."

"Five kids, one bathroom?" Paul said. "That'll happen."

"Yep," Casey said. "And of course Derek lives to make it worse."

"How so?" Paul asked. _Oh, God, here we go_, he thought.

_Well,_ Casey thought,_ If he doesn't wanna know, he shouldn't ask._

"He pranks me," Casey said. "Constantly. Like I'm his new favorite target. Then he'll turn around and do something sweet. I never know what to expect. Everybody says that this is normal. That he's acting like...like..."

"A brother?" Paul asked.

"I guess," Casey said. The corners of her mouth went down.

"I sense a little disappointment," Paul said.

"Um," Casey said. "It's just that...it's not that I didn't expect him to be a little gorilla-ish. I know what teenage boys are like, but I don't know. Half the time, it seems like he's out to get me. Maybe it's too early for affection, but I guess I expected a little friendliness."

"What seems so unfriendly?" Paul asked.

"He calls me Interloper," Casey said.

Paul laughed.

"How is that funny?" Casey asked.

"Oh," Paul said turning mock-serious. "Not funny at all."

Casey raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you might not be taking things too seriously, Casey?" Paul asked.

"People keep saying that," Casey said. "But what if they're not taking things seriously enough? Mom says I flew off the handle over that whole dance class thing."

"Dance class thing?" Paul asked. She explained what she'd been going through the past few days.

"So do you think I freaked over nothing?" Casey asked.

"Not nothing," Paul said. "I can understand the need to assert yourself..." He let the statement hang.

"But I did it all wrong," Casey said. "_I _know. I apologized all over the place. And Derek said that I didn't even have to take the class, but _of course _I do."

"Why?" Paul asked.

"I just feel like it would be disrespectful if I didn't," Casey said.

That sounded like the PC version to Paul.

"And anyway, Edwin, Derek, and Marti use it right in front of me and I don't understand. It's like I'm not in the family if I don't do it. I don't wanna be left out."

_That's more like it_, Paul thought.

"And they're all making you feel left out now?" Paul asked.

Casey opened her mouth, then closed it again. "I don't know," she said, finally. Then her eyebrows knit together "_Yeah_. And you know what else? It really ticks me off, so I figure if I learn the language, they can't leave me out anymore. And I'm gonna rub Derek's nose in it, too."

_At least she's consistent_, Paul thought. _Derek, Derek, Derek._ "How's your progress otherwise?" Paul asked, trying not to laugh.

"Huh? Um...classes are going okay," Casey said. "I'm still sharing a locker, but at least my lockermate's friendly. But about the locker situation, am I really supposed to believe that there are no—"

The bell rang.

"Guess that's it for today," Paul said.

"Umkay," Casey said.

"Same time next week?" Paul asked. Casey nodded.

Within two minutes of meeting her a couple of weeks back, he learned of her overwhelming need to overachieve, have total control and generally be perfect at everything. Kids like that had nervous breakdowns every day. Already, he was glad that he's there to talk her down so that didn't happen. And maybe this Derek kid would be good for that, too. Paul was dying to meet him, put a face to the name. He'd been meaning to check last year's yearbook for a picture of the kid, but keeps getting distracted. He knew he'd get around to it eventually.

Part Three: Derek.

"How about that one?" Sam signed, cocking his head.

"Emily?" Derek signed back.

"No, the one next to her. In the pink," Sam signed.

Derek looked a couple of tables over, and, sure enough—there was Casey, surrounded by highlighters, index cards and other such nerd stuff, oblivious to the looks people were giving her. He thought, _Only Sam would think that was cute._

"Boring," Derek signed.

"Are we looking at the same girl?" Sam signed.

"The one with the hair pulled back so hard she can't blink," Derek signed.

"Yeah, that's her," Sam signed. "She's cute."

Derek made his best "meh" face and shrugged. He had no intention of telling Sam who she was. He didn't even stop to think that Sam would find out eventually. It wasn't a lie, exactly. He'd told Sam and their other friend Ralph about the wedding and the stepsisters, but he'd sorta led them to believe that both were much younger than he was, so they didn't ask questions.

This was a wrinkle that Derek hadn't thought of—his friends going after Casey. _They_ had nothing stopping them, after all. She was a red-blooded, available female who wasn't related to them by marriage or otherwise. But the thought of Sam, or Ralph for that matter, going after her was unacceptable.

Ralph came over, with his tray loaded with the stuff nobody wanted, PB&J with the crunchy bread, pudding with skin on top. The last greenish orange. This was what happened when you were late for lunch. Ralphie, however, had proven that he was willing to eat anything. He was the all time truth or dare hot pepper champion. So a little pudding skin didn't upset him.

"What'd I miss?" Ralph asked, tray in hand.

"Sam's gone crazy," Derek said. Sam bumped Derek's shoulder.

"What's her name?" Ralph asked.

"I don't know yet," Sam said. He nodded toward the table where Casey and Emily sat.

"The new girl?" Ralph asked.

"Yep," Sam said. The three of them watched Casey jump up and hug Emily across the table. When she did that, both Sam and Ralph checked her out. Derek rolled his eyes. He was trying to break the habit of checking her out.

Ralphie, realizing that he was still standing up, put his tray down and took a seat.

"I need a soda," Sam signed.

"You have one," Ralph signed. Sam put his soda on Ralph's tray.

"Oh, okay," Ralph said, not catching on that Emily and Casey were right by the soda machines. Derek huffed in annoyance, but it wasn't like he could think of a way to stop Sam from doing what he was about to do.

This was something he'd done once or twice before. Sam went to the soda machine, taking out the most crumbly dollar bill he could find. He made a show of trying to get the machine to take it. Then he went to the table and asked if anyone had change.

Emily clearly knew what he was up to. She smirked up at him, went through her pockets and shrugged. Then she asked Casey. Casey's back was to Derek, so he didn't know if she said anything, but he saw her reach for her bag and dig through it, pulling out a change purse.

_Casey has a change-purse,_ Derek thought. _Does she have a half-knitted sweater in there, too? A selection of hard candy maybe? Extra support hose? _

At first, he couldn't see much more than the back of Casey's head. Then she turned and he saw a little bit of her cheekbone, proof that she was smiling. Sam was smiling back as he handed her the droopy dollar bill. She put the change in his hand and closed his fingers over it.

"I'm Sam, by the way," Sam said.

Casey answered him.

"Weeellll," Sam said. "Nice to meet you, Casey McDonald." He started to go back toward their table, when something Casey said stopped him.

He smacked his forehead and went back to the soda machine.

_Slick_, Derek thought. His day had really taken a major downturn.

"C-A-S-E-Y M-C-D-O-N-A-L-D" Sam signed when he got back. He still had that stupid grin on his face.

"Did you get her number?" Ralph asked.

Sam's smile dimmed a little. "Nope," he said. "But it's early yet."

Derek smirked at him like he was hopeless.

"I'll get her number," Sam said. "Don't you worry."

That was pretty much what he had been worried about.

"Dude, what is your problem?" Sam asked, looking amused at the look on Derek's face.

"I don't have a problem," Derek said. "You might have a weird nerd fetish, but I'm all good."

Sam gave him a playful shove.

"You're getting nerd on me, Dude," Derek said.

They didn't see her for the rest of the day. After the last bell rang, Casey tried to be cute, giving Sam this little shy smile as she passed, and walked straight smack into a pillar, spewing books and index cards everywhere. Derek and Ralph joined the rest of the hall in laughing at her. Casey shot a look of hellfire and damnation at Derek, which only made it funnier.

Sam, who also seemed to be giggling a little, stopped to help her and Emily pick up her stuff. Then Casey took off like a shot for the bus.

"Not taking the cheese bus?" He asked her. He had this urge to see how mad she was. She turned her back on him. Before she did, he could see that her face was all red. He was really gonna get it when he got home. None of it had been his fault of course, but Casey wouldn't let a little thing like logic stop her.

The next day, Friday, Sam smacked Derek in the back of the head.

"Your _stepsister_?" Sam said.

"Who?" Derek asked.

"Casey's your _step_sister?" Sam said. "When were you gonna tell me that?"

"I don't like to admit it to myself," Derek said.

"This?" Sam began. "Is not the time to mess with me. She won't go out with me because I'm _your_ friend."

"Ooh, way to dodge a bullet, Sammy," Derek said.

Sam ignored him. "She thinks that my asking you out was _your_ idea," Sam said. "To trick her. What exactly have you been doing to her to make her think that she's _Carrie_ and I'm asking her to the prom?"

Derek laughed for a full minute at that. When he looked up, Sam was gone.

Sam wouldn't talk to him the whole rest of the day. Ralph had no one to stop him from telling his meandering, no point to them stories at lunch.

"So I told him I didn't have any hot dogs, and then he said—Emily!" Ralph said, breaking into a grin.

"Huh?" Derek said. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around.

"Mind if I sit?" she asked, not waiting for an answer.

"I guess not," Derek said.

Emily giggled at something Ralph said, then turned back to Derek, all business again.

"So I'm pretty sure that you didn't put Sam up to asking Casey out, did you?" Emily said.

"Why would I do that?" Derek asked.

"I don't know, but you have her paranoid," Emily said.

"She came right out of the box that way," Derek said. "You can't blame me for that." He grinned at her, hoping that she'd forget what she was talking about. For a second, it looked like it was working, but then she seemed to remember the task at hand.

"So you're saying that you absolutely didn't put him up to it," Emily said. "You're not trying to mess with her."

"Is everything in this world about her?" Derek said.

"How about a nice, simple, 'yes' or 'no' answer?" Emily said.

"Cute when she's angry," Ralph signed. That seemed to derail Emily for a second. Derek thought she'd yell at Ralph for being rude and saying stuff behind her back. Or in front of her face...whatever, but she blushed and grinned at Ralph instead.

"Thank you,"she said.

"You're welcome," Ralph said.

_What?_ Derek thought.

"Since when do understand—" Derek asked.

The smile dropped off of Emily's face.

"Don't change the subject," she said. "I'm still waiting for an answer."

"Now _I'm _changing the subject?" Derek asked.

"Yes or no?" Emily asked.

"No," Derek signed.

"Good enough," Emily said. She got up and left them sitting there.

"She likes you," Ralph said.

"Shut it," Derek said.

"Guess she won't go out with _me_, then, huh?" Ralph asked. "Because she liiiikes you."

Derek threw a plastic bottle cap at him, which he caught easily. Ralph continued to grin at him, like the whole thing was funny.

"She's _hot_," Ralph said. "I don't know what your problem is."

_Me neither_, Derek thought. She _was_ hot. She had a blazingly obvious crush on him and had it for as long as he could remember, and now he knew just how far the crush extended. He didn't know how to react to that. _Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, _he thought, putting his head down on the table.

Ralph tapped him a minute or so later.

"Bell rang, Dude," Ralph said. Derek nodded.

He had history class with Casey later that afternoon. She did her best not only to ignore him, but to make sure that he knew that she was ignoring him. He wasn't in the mood to play. He kept staring at his desk. Christine, his interpreter, kept tapping him to get him to at least look like he was paying attention.

"I still get paid if your ass flunks, you know," she signed.

"I know," he signed. It was one of her favorite things to say.

When the class finally ended after what felt like years, Christine stopped him on the way out.

He felt a lecture coming on. He knew she felt like she'd been talking to a wall all afternoon, and in a way, she had.

"Let me have it," he said.

"Whoever she is, she'll forgive you," Christine said. "I, however, will kick your ass if you space out on me again. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said.

"I have to have all eyes on me," she said. "It's an ego thing. I can't help it."

"I know," Derek said. "Believe me, I know."

"Now, do you know what your homework is?" she asked.

"No," Derek said. "Do I ever?"

She handed him a folded piece of notebook paper. "I don't know what you'd do without me. Now get lost."

He winked at her. She rolled her eyes at him, but laughed. She was twenty-three and going for a teaching degree. She was more or less immune to his bullshit, treating him like a little brother, even going so far as to pat him on the head once or twice.

He saw Casey and Emily climb onto the yellow bus and decided that it would be a better idea to walk the few blocks to the # 18 bus. He wasn't in any hurry to get home.

An hour or so later, he tried to sneak in the back door. His Dad stopped him.

"Detention again?" he asked.

"No," Derek said indignantly.

"Yeah, guess not," Dad said. "You'd still be there. So what happened."

"Missed the bus," Derek lied. His Dad looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Okay," Dad said, shrugging. "Can't make you tell me. But if you want to..."

"I know," Derek said.

He went into the living room, chased Edwin out of his chair, climbing into it himself. Casey and Lizzie were watching some old rerun. Casey had the remote tight in one hand, not loosening her grip on it one bit when Edwin wiggled between them.

After a few minutes, he felt a tap on his arm.

"You're not fighting me for the remote?" Casey asked.

Derek shrugged, started to look away. There was another tap.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

"Peachy," Derek said. He turned back to the TV and pretended to be interested in a commercial for feminine hygiene products. It wasn't closed-captioned, but he couldn't be more uncomfortable if it were.

Casey put the remote on the arm of his chair. It might've been her half-assed way of saying that she wasn't mad at him anymore. Which was good, since, once again, he hadn't done anything. He wondered if this was a ploy to make him afraid to prank her for real. Some people just did the hand in warm water trick.

Casey seemed to be about to say something, but then she reached for the phone. It didn't take her long to start giggling into it. She got up and went into the kitchen. When she came back, she was all smiles.

_I guess that if I'm gonna be surrounded by crazy, it's good that I found out about it early_, he thought. _Surprises are overrated_.


	8. Chapter 8

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Eight

Part One: Nora

Saturday afternoon, after Casey's first round of classes, Nora expected her to come home exhausted and drag herself upstairs to shower, then collapse onto the couch. So she was pretty surprised when Casey called to say that she wasn't coming home for dinner.

"Oooh," Nora said. "Whatcha doing?"

"Nothing," Casey said. "Going for a walk, maybe getting some dollar menu..."

"Wiiiith?" Nora said.

"Mo-_om_!" Casey said, right on cue. Nora laughed. George looked up from the cookbook he'd been studying.

"If you're eating dollar menu, it must be serious," Nora teased. "All that fried food. With all that saturated fat."

"This must be George's influence," Casey said. "You never enjoyed torturing me before."

"I've only just discovered how much fun it can be," Nora said.

Casey snorted in disgust.

"My job as your mother is to know exactly where you are and who you're with," Nora said, grinning at George. "So spill. Details. How cute is he?"

"It's Sam," Casey said. Nora could picture Casey, red-faced, teeth gritted, eyes squinched shut. "I'm with Sam, okay?"

"Derek's Sam?" Nora asked.

"I don't think Derek holds exclusive license to him," Casey said. "But, yeah, that Sam. _Somehow_ he's friends with Derek. We all have our flaws."

Nora could hear Sam's voice, laughing and saying "Aw come on," in the background.

"Well," Nora said. "Tell him I said hi, and don't stay out too late."

"How late is too late?" Casey asked.

"I dunno," Nora said. "Six, six thirty?"

"Mom," Casey said. Nora could hear the eye roll.

"I guess regular rules apply," Nora said. "Eleven." She doubted that Casey'd stay out that late, though.

When she hung up, she turned to George.

"Oooooh," George said, laughing. "Sam, huh? Can't wait to pull the 'what are your intentions' thing next time I see him. Thought I'd have to wait for Marti to bring home boys before I could be the scary Dad."

Nora smiled at the image of George trying to be intimidating.

"What," George said. "Don't think I can do it?" He grabbed her around the waist.

"Oh, no," Nora said. "I'm sure you can."

"Uh-huh."

"That's what I love about you," Nora said, holding back a giggle. "You're so...commanding."

"Don't you guys have a _room_?" Derek asked, walking toward the fridge. "With a door you can close?"

"Technically, since I own this _house_," George said. "It's _all_ my room."

"Ew," Derek said. Then he turned his attention toward the fridge.

"Dinner's gonna be in a couple hours," Nora said.

"Yeah," George said, unconcerned.

"Don't you think we should remind him of that?" Nora asked.

"You don't have much experience with boys, do you?" George asked. "We'll have to wrestle the plate away from him before he takes a bite out of it."

"Wonder what he's gonna say about this whole Sam situation," Nora said.

"Do you even have to ask?" George said.

"Was afraid of that," Nora said. Derek turned back around a pudding cup in his hand.

"And we're gonna need to mince the garlic, but I never really got the hang of mincing," George said.

"Just use the garlic press," Nora said.

"We have a garlic press?" George asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Derek said. "I'm leaving. Go ahead and talk about whatever you're really talking about."

He grabbed a spoon from the drawer, and walked away, shaking his head. "Garlic press," he said.

A couple of hours later, over dinner, the inevitable question came up.

"Where's Casey?" Lizzie asked.

Derek tried not to look interested, but he couldn't quite pull it off, as he watched Nora for the answer.

"She called before," Nora said. "She's out. With a friend."

"Oooh," Lizzie said. "A friieennd? Who is it?"

"Who is it?" Nora asked. "Well—"

"It's Sam," Derek said, still pretending nonchalance.

Lizzie waved at him across the table. "How do you know?"

"He said he's running errands for his Mom today," Derek said, shrugging.

"So he can't possibly be running errands for his Mom?" Lizzie asked.

Derek looked at her like that was the stupidest question ever asked in the history of the world. "Duh," he said.

Edwin laughed.

Casey would have argued further, but Lizzie seemed to accept it. Marti started a round of "Casey and Sammy sitting in a tree." So Marti clearly approved of the match.

Edwin and Lizzie watched Derek for his reaction to the bouncing six-year-old and her impromptu mini-celebration. Derek raised an eyebrow at his baby sister, but then turned morosely back to his chili. Nora wondered how much Ed and Liz knew. Based on the way they looked at each other, they seemed to know quite a bit.

Part Two: Edwin.

Edwin and Lizzie, knowing that Derek was in a foul mood, decided to practice Derek avoidance after dinner.

A couple of weeks before, Dad had brought home a ridiculously big jigsaw puzzle and had given up on it in one night. So now it was spread out on a folding card table in Edwin's room. He and Lizzie spent a few hours on and off trying to put it together. Lizzie had much more patience than Edwin did. He kept giving up and tossing pieces across the room in disgust, then going back and getting them because nothing was worse than putting an entire puzzle together to find one or two pieces missing.

They made a couple of corners worth of progress and called it a night. Lizzie flopped across Edwin's bed and he grabbed a piece of nearby floor. After a while, he asked how her ASL class had gone that day and she bounced upright in excitement.

"It was so cool!" she said. "Mom got so frustrated." She laughed. Edwin pictured Nora's face turning red, steam coming out of her ears, while she tried to look calm.

"The teacher's Deaf," Lizzie continued. "He didn't talk for most of the class. It was like jumping right into the deep end. Anytime anyone had a question, they had to at least try to sign it first. I am so glad you taught me a little, 'cause I would've been so dead. He expected us to have studied the book a little before we got there. It was, like, the one time being Casey's sister paid off."

"Keener rubs off, huh?" Edwin asked.

"Yep," Lizzie said. There was a silence between them and Edwin could hear the TV downstairs. Lizzie grinned at him devilishly for a second and said nothing.

"What?" Edwin asked.

"Will you help me study for next week?" she asked.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked.

"Nope," she said.

"Didn't think so," he said, grinning. He wouldn't have it any other way. He sat down on the bed next to her and they went over all she'd done that day in class. So far, she signed the way Edwin played the piano, stopping at every mistake and saying "wait-wait-wait."

Every time she did that, he laughed at her, and every time he laughed at her, she shoved him. So he kept laughing. They kept this up until they heard the front door open and close. Then it was time to do some investigating.

Part Three: Casey.

Everything was going off without a hitch so far. She knocked the nearest piece of wood, her desk, while thinking _no jinx, no jinx_.

She'd been taking a break midway though her ASL beginner class and had been one of the only people who stayed in the classroom. There was a contingent of smokers right outside the exit, and an equally large group waiting for a chance at the bathrooms. Still, one woman had turned and looked at her funny when she'd knocked on the desk.

"Knock wood," Casey explained. "You know."

The woman smiled and turned back to her book, shaking her head.

The class was difficult, but not nearly as frightening as she'd pictured. The teacher had a sense of humor and had even told the class that if they were good, she'd teach them how to curse. She also liked to remind them all that it was okay to screw things up, that they were all in the same boat.

Casey'd been terrified that the teacher would be one of those who believed in the immersion method. She would have had to run screaming from the room had that been the case.

The rest of the class flew by pretty quickly, Casey had taken off directly for the exit, hoping to catch the next bus, which, according to her schedule, left in three minutes. She walked out with her head down, rearranging stuff in her bag, when she collided with someone.

"Oh my God," she said. "I'm so sorry—"

"Me too," Sam said. "That hurt a little. But I think it was worth it."

"What are you doing here?" Casey asked.

"Rip in the space-time continuum," Sam said. "This is supposed to be my bedroom."

Casey raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you think?" he asked. "I was hoping to run into you. Maybe not so literally, but still."

"How'd you know I'd be here?" she asked.

"Emily," he said.

For a second, she didn't know whether to hug Emily or kill her. She'd decide later.

She looked down the street and saw her bus go by. _Dammit,_ she thought.

"So how'd the class go?" Sam asked. "Learn anything good?"

"Teacher said she'd teach us how to curse eventually," Casey said.

"Derek didn't teach you yet?" Sam asked. "That was the _first_ thing he taught me."

"Doesn't surprise me," Casey said. "He tried to teach me, actually. I said no. Don't remember why. Seems like it would come in handy, doesn't it? Not that I curse, mind you."

"Nope," Sam said, shaking his head like he didn't believe her. "'Course not. But they're good to know."

"In case they get used against me, I know," Casey said. "Wait a sec. How long have you known Derek?"

"Since grade one," Sam said.

"He taught you how to curse when you were _five or six_?" Casey asked. Sam nodded like that was the most natural thing in the world.

"Who taught _him_ at that age?" Casey wondered.

"Older kids in _his _ASL class, I would guess," Sam said. "So do you wanna get something to eat?"

"But I'm all sweaty," Casey said. It wasn't like she'd had time to shower after dance class.

"I'm on the hockey team," Sam said. "I can deal with sweaty. So maybe a hot dog?"

"Huh?" Casey said.

"Food?" Sam said. "Yes?"

"Yes," Casey said. "But no hot dogs. Haven't you ever seen those news reports on how much bacteria live in a hot dog cart?"

"Death with a side of sauerkraut?" Sam intoned in a deep, newscaster voice. "Find out at eleven."

Casey giggled.

After she called home, Sam walked her to a little coffee shop not too far from home. Smelly Nellie's, it was called. She'd passed it a few times already, but had never been inside. She liked it immediately.

After they found a table, she asked, "So what's good here?"

"Think I'm going for a cheeseburger," Sam said. "They have everything, though. Lots of veggie stuff if you like that."

"Umkay," Casey said, hoping he didn't think she was too crunchy granola. But the cucumber and orange salad looked really good. But so did the chicken fingers. Then she caught a whiff of cheeseburger as a waiter passed, and began to dither.

Eventually she just closed her eyes and pointed, ending up with the chicken. Sam seemed to think her indecision was funny, so it was okay.

"So," Casey began. "Tell me about yourself."

"Um," Sam said. "Not much to tell."

"'Course there is," Casey said. "I know you're into sports, especially hockey. But what else do you do?"

"I dunno," Sam said. "I guess I just sorta hang out?" He bit his lip.

She was asking the wrong questions. Time to be more specific.

Before their food came, she found out that he had three sisters, liked hip-hop and rock, played a little guitar and bass, mostly in his room, loved action and horror movies and didn't hate romantic comedies. She also learned that under no circumstances would he ever sing or dance in public. Or in private. Never ever. Ever. He also had issues with public speaking, could not do it.

"Ooh, there's a story there," Casey said.

"Um, nope, not really," Sam said.

He looked a little shell-shocked at all the questions, but not really in a bad way, she didn't think.

When the food came, however, he asked about her, and then immediately took a huge bite of his burger so that he could do little more than nod as she talked and he chewed.

He looked so scared. She didn't know what to make of him. Was he really that shy?

"You're from Toronto, huh?" he said, after he finished chewing. He got points for not talking with his mouth full.

"Yeah," she said. "How'd you know?"

He shrugged. "Derek."

"I thought he didn't tell you about us," Casey said.

"He mentioned the wedding and the presence of stepsisters," Sam said. "He just wasn't very specific, I guess."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Casey asked.

"Not really," Sam said.

"I really don't get him," Casey said. "You're his best friend right?"

"One of," Sam said.

"Does he know you're out with me?" she asked.

Sam cracked a smile. "I told you he didn't put me up to this," he said.

"I know," Casey said. "I believe you. I mean, he so obviously doesn't like me, won't he give you grief for going out with me?"

"Who said he doesn't like you?" Sam asked.

"Sam," Casey said. "He spent several minutes when he first met me pretending that he didn't understand a word I said. Let me make a total fool of myself. And he understood this waitress with an entire pack of gum in her mouth."

Sam laughed.

"How's that funny?" Casey asked.

"I dunno," Sam said. "Sounds like a 'welcome to the family' kind of thing. Like an initiation."

Casey raised an eyebrow at him. Either he was really kind and that blinded him to the evil in the world, or he was straight up lying.

"If he didn't like you well enough, he wouldn't waste his time messing with you. He'd ignore you completely," Sam said.

She said nothing, chewed that over for a minute.

"Don't believe me?" Sam asked.

"It's not that. It's just that I don't _get him,_" she repeated.

"You will," Sam said.

Sam paid when the check came. Casey considered herself to be a feminist, so she put up a bit of an argument while inwardly squealing with delight.

Then he walked her home, which felt really old-fashioned and great, even though she knew he'd probably want to see Derek for a minute after she went in.

Before they went inside, he stopped in front of the steps and turned to her. Her heart stopped because suddenly it felt like he was going to try for a kiss, but some water dripped on her from somewhere and she hopped back involuntarily, completely killing the moment.

"Sorry," Casey said, wiping at her shoulder. "I was afraid that that might be from a bird, but it was just water."

"You okay?" Sam asked, stepping back out onto the sidewalk and looking up toward the second floor. Casey followed suit, but neither saw any evidence of waiting buckets, waterguns, or balloons. It was just an ordinary drip.

"Guess the coast is clear," Casey said.

"So," Sam said. "Bet you can wait to show off what you learned today."

"Huh?"

"Show Derek your mad skills?" Sam said, signing a little at the same time.

Casey stared at him for a few seconds, unable to believe how cute he was.

"No?" Sam said.

"No," Casey said. "He'd totally make fun of me."

"Yeah, he would," Sam said. "But he'd appreciate the gesture."

"Pun intended?" Casey asked.

Sam cocked his head like he didn't know what she meant and then realized what he'd just said. "Yeah, okay. _Totally_ said that on purpose."

"Uh-huh," Casey said.

"No, I _did_," Sam said. "I am a sharp, sharp wit, is what I am."

Casey giggled.

"It only looks accidental," Sam said. "That's just how good I am."

"You're so cute," Casey said.

"That too," Sam said, but he was blushing. Then after a pause, he said, "I mean, thank you?"

"Awww," Casey said, giving him a quick hug, then apologizing for being all sweaty and sticky.

"You're fine," Sam said.

"So?" Casey said, nodding toward the door. "Come on in, have your boy time."

"Umkay," Sam said.

Part Four: Derek.

Nothing on TV. Nothing at all. To Derek it felt like one of those days where he stares at the family's growing collection of DVDs and thinks to himself, _We need more DVDs. There's nothing to watch. _Derek knows that he could find something interesting by reaching behind the self-help books for the horror movies, but Smarti, or even worse, _Nora_ could walk by at any time and be traumatized. And he was in the mood for something gross.

He realized that he could go upstairs and watch whatever he wanted on his computer, but he wasn't about to leave his chair. He didn't want to admit why that was.

He flipped channels, stopping on a collection of arty short films. This was something that he always stopped for because the films were all over the map. He'd seen some really ridiculous ones. He and Sam planned to make at least one ridiculous short film before the year was out.

But then he'd also seen some short films on that show that were so brilliant that he thought he'd die from jealousy. Either way, the show was a good way to kill an hour, so things started to look up.

During the first commercial break, the door opened and Casey flounced in with Sam and went directly upstairs, leaving Sam standing in the doorway. Derek toyed with the idea of leaving Sam standing in the foyer with that stupid look on his face, but he just couldn't do it.

"Hey," Derek said.

"Hi," Sam said.

"Thought you weren't talking to me," Derek said.

"Sorry about that," Sam said, grinning sheepishly.

"Sure," Derek said. "Now that you're in a good mood all is forgiven, huh? Not that I did anything to forgive."

"_You_?"Sam said. "Do something wrong? The hell you say!"

"Yeah."

"Didn't lie to me about your hottie stepsister or _any_thing," Sam said.

"Okay, first of all, _ew_?" Derek said. "And second, I _didn't_ lie."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I just didn't tell you everything," Derek said. "I mean do you really want to know _every_thing about me? Should I give you _every_ detail? That what you want?"

Sam rolled his eyes and let him talk. Sam was always the quiet one. The irony wasn't lost on Derek.

"You sitting?" Derek asked.

"'Kay," Sam said.

Part Five: Sam.

Sam took a seat on the edge of the couch. He half watched TV and half watched Derek watching TV. Derek didn't watch a movie to watch the movie. He paid attention to pretty much every detail, and all while reading subtitles at the same time. Derek, Sam knew, was the type of movie geek who watched all the bonus features on DVDs. He'd listen to the director's commentary if he could.

Derek turned to Sam during the commercial break.

"What the hell was that?" he signed. "Did you get it?"

The look on Derek's face started Sam laughing, which in turn set Derek off, too.

"I was gonna ask you," Sam signed.

"Would love to know what the director was smoking," Derek signed.

"And the writer," Sam signed.

"What was the dude standing on?"

"I think it was a big bar of soap!"

"What _are_ you guys watching?" Casey said from behind the couch. Sam startled. Her hair was wet, and she smelled a little like steam and strawberries. When Derek saw her, he gave her the "who invited you?" look that he usually gave Edwin. Sam thought that this could go one of two ways. With Edwin, about half of the time, the look dissolved into a grin and Edwin would be included into the conversation. The other half of the time, Derek kept up the glare until Edwin scurried off.

This time, with Casey, Derek was working the dirty look for all it was worth and Casey was countering with a grin.

_This should be interesting,_ Sam thought. Casey crossed between the couch and Derek's chair, patting Derek's head as she passed. Derek grabbed her wrist and looked up at her.

"If you wanna lose that hand, _Sis,_ do that again," Derek said.

"Ooh," Casey said, yanking her hand back. "_Some_body's cranky. Miss your nap?"

"What do you want?" Derek asked.

"Hmmm," Casey said, crouching a little so that she was eye-level to both of them. "Interesting question. I want—ice cream."

"What flavor?" Derek said. Both Sam and Casey looked at him in amazement.

"Why?" Casey asked.

"Wanna know what color ground glass to sprinkle on top," Derek said. "Unless you just want it on the side."

"Awww. Love you too, _Bro_," Casey said.

"_Derek_," Sam said.

"Sam," Derek said.

"Know what?" Sam said. "Don't listen to him."

"I never do," Casey said.

Sam patted the seat next to him.

"Thanks, Sam," Casey said, her face pointed towards Derek. "It's nice to know that some people have manners."

"Yeah, well," Derek said. "He's a work in progress."

"He can teach _you_ a thing or two," Casey said. She had started to turn toward Sam, but she turned toward Derek suddenly to answer him, whipping a little of her wet hair into Sam's face. Sam wrinkled his nose and tried to keep from laughing.

"Already taught me how to turn my eyelid inside out," Derek said. "Wanna see?"

"Ew!" Casey said. She _finally_ turned to Sam. "You actually do that? What if it stayed that way?"

"The ER doc would have a good laugh?" Sam said

"And fit you for an eyepatch?" Casey asked.

"I might look good in an eyepatch," Sam teased. He reached to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear and Derek cleared his throat, startling him a little.

Casey turned back to Derek, smacking Sam with her hair again. "Thought you were making me a sundae," she said.

"Yeah, okay," Derek said. "Maybe we have some of that special anti-freeze sauce in the garage."

"Well, in that case," Casey said. "You should make yourself some, too."

"Am I still in the room?" Sam muttered. No one noticed. It was like one of those dreams where you suddenly realized that no one's been listening to you, so in disgust, you walk through the wall and into the other room to be alone with the Teletubbies. He laughed at the image.

"What's funny?" Casey asked.

"Nothing," Sam said.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Derek asked.

"Oh my gosh!" Casey said. "Looks like there's hope for you yet!"

"I was being sarcastic," Derek said.

"Me too," Casey said."But you should still go."

"Keep dreaming," Derek said.

"Suit yourself," Casey said. She leaned back. "So what are we watching?"

Sam had been rubbing the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache that was sure to hit, but then Casey leaned on his arm and all was magically better.

"What _are_ we watching?" Sam asked. "I forget."

Derek got up and headed toward the kitchen, shaking his head and dropping the remote between the two of them on the couch.

"No way," Casey said after waiting a minute. "Did that _work_?"

"Don't jinx it," Sam said.

"Okay," Casey whispered. She leaned closer.

_Oh, really?_ Sam thought. _Okay._ And he leaned a little closer, too.

The pocket door leading to the kitchen opened with a slight clatter, startling the both of them, but probably not as dramatically as Derek had hoped.

"On second thought," Derek said. "Maybe the two of you need supervision."

"Jinx," Sam said.

"Sorry," Casey said.

Derek stood in front of them, a bag of cheese curls in one hand. He gestured for the two of them to separate.

"You don't think you're sitting between us, do you?" Casey asked.

"I will if I have to," Derek said.

"Dude," Sam said. "What're you doing?"

"I'm being a good brother," Derek said.

"Hee," Casey said. "Good one."

"I try," Derek said."Now move."

Derek acted like he was about to sit on Sam's lap, moving closer until Sam hopped out of the way.

"Bluffing," Casey said.

"That's a chance I'm just not willing to take," Sam said. Derek smirked in victory. "How about if I just call you when I get home?"

"Yeah, okay," Casey said, rolling her eyes. "But I'll walk you outside." She moved to get up and Derek, for no reason Sam could think of, grabbed her around the waist and held her down, while getting orange curl schmutz on her t-shirt.

"De-_rek_, " she yelped.

Sam shook his head. "Talk to you later," he said. He thought back to when he and Derek were ten and had had the best time messing with his oldest sister, Karen and her boyfriend. He couldn't remember why it had been so funny.

But somehow this didn't feel the same. The two of them didn't have time to work up any kind of brother/sister relationship, so he thought that Derek was just being a jerk because he could.

_Unless he wants her,_ he thought. She was beautiful. Sam was crazy about her already, so it was within the realm of possibility that Derek could be, too. But that didn't sound right either, not because she was his stepsister, although Sam could imagine the trouble that might cause. More likely, it didn't feel right because as far as Sam could see, Derek didn't act like this when he liked a girl. He just went and _got_ her. There was none of this nonsense.

Derek looked up and saw Sam still watching, and, guiltily, let go of Casey who hopped off the couch and stood up to yell at Derek some more. Sam took the opportunity to turn and leave. The headache that had threatened before started to come on all over again.

Derek was acting weird. And there was no real reason in this world to think the problem was what he thought it was.

But he thought it all the same.


	9. Chapter 9

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Nine

Part One: Derek.

The first thing Derek did before school that Monday was ask Linda Martinez out on a date. She, of course, had said yes, wondered what had taken him so long.

"You know," he said. "Wrapped up in schoolwork. Studying."

She laughed just a little too hard at that. Her head flew back and her shoulders shook. It got Sam and Ralph to turn around in the hallway. The last thing Derek needed right then was for Sam to see what he was up to.

He'd legitimately wanted to ask Linda out for a while, had really only recently forgotten about her, but Derek decided that it was high time to get back on track. Not that Sam would see it that way. He had a suspicious nature, one which seemed to come out most often around Derek. So when Sam came toward Derek's locker, eyebrows up, Derek pretended to root through the depths of his book bag for something or other. It didn't matter what, as long as it really seemed to absorb his attention so that Sam couldn't catch his eye. When Sam finally tapped him, it was to tell him that the warning bell rang. As if he wouldn't have figured it out from all the scurrying Grade Nines. Sam went off to Biology. Derek knew better than to think that he was off the hook, but it meant a temporary reprieve. Since Sam didn't have any morning classes with Derek that day, he wouldn't have a chance to ask questions until lunch.

He didn't think he'd ever been so happy to sit through World History.

Sam got right down to business at lunch, though.

"Linda Martinez, huh?" he said.

"Dude, that's awesome," Ralph said. Sam turned and gave Ralph a "shut up" look.

"Not awesome?" Ralph said. "The opposite of awesome? Anyone wanna put me in the loop?"

"You were right the first time," Derek said. "Awesome." He bumped knuckles with Ralph.

"I'm just wondering why the sudden interest," Sam said.

"Sudden?" Derek said. "I've been after her since last year."

"But you had a million chances to ask her out after school started and you're just getting to it now," Sam said.

"Yeah, well, better late than never," Derek said.

"Why now?" Sam asked.

"Why not now?" Derek asked.

"There's no reason that you waited so long?" Sam asked.

There was a reason that Derek hadn't had Sam or Ralph over to the house since the wedding. His excuse had been that the house was thrown into chaos.

"Which would be different, how?" Sam had said.

"Angry females and their hormones everywhere," Derek had said. "And scented candles."

But the real reason had had more to do with not wanting Sam and Ralph to see what happened when Casey was around. On Saturday night, Sam had seen exactly what Derek didn't want him to see. You couldn't put things past Sam. And as for Ralph, you could put things past him for a minute or two longer than Sam, but he was quicker than people gave him credit for.

"Like I told you before," Derek said. "Chaos, sisters."

"That reminds me," Ralph said. He whacked Derek upside the head.

"Hey!" Derek said. "What's your problem?"

"Your stepsister's cute," Ralph said. "You kept her hotness to yourself."

Derek paused in chewing his sandwich as all the moisture in his mouth seemed to go away. He never knew whether Ralph said stuff like that by accident or if he just loved to mess with him as much as Sam did. He took a swig of his soda so that he could swallow.

"Her what-ness?" Derek asked. "How many fingers am I holding up, Ralphie? No I'm serious. Can you follow this finger without moving your head?"

Ralph rolled his eyes and waited for Derek to finish.

"Besides, Sammy beat you to it," Derek said, gesturing with his soda can.

"I know," Ralph said, morosely picking at his overcooked pasta.

"The so called 'chaos'" Sam did air quotes. "Didn't throw _Casey's_ game off, did it?"

"Yeah, well," Derek said. "I figured if _she _could get a date before me, I really needed to get my act together."

"And that's why you seemed to have so much fun messing with us the other night?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Derek said. "It's my prerogative as the oldest brother—almost the man of the house—to mess with the head of anyone who takes out my stepsister. You know I can't make exceptions for you, buddy. I mean how would it look if I played favorites?"

"Prerogative?" Sam asked. Derek nodded.

"Spell prerogative," Sam said.

So Derek spelled it out. Sam should really know better than to ask Derek to spell stuff because he usually could.

"That answer your question?" Derek asked.

"No," Sam said.

"No?" Derek asked, innocently.

Sam leaned closer. He spoke slowly. "Cut. The. Crap," he said.

"Dude, what do you want from me?" Derek asked. "You want me to apologize for bugging you guys? Fine. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Sam asked. "You've never been sorry a day in your life."

"Guess there's a first time for everything," Derek said.

"So then you might actually tell the truth at least once before you die?" Sam asked.

Sam seemed to think that he was going to badger Derek until he had some _Law and Order_ style confession. He was out of his mind if he thought that it would work, and he was really out of his mind if he thought that the truth is what he wanted to hear. No, this was likely to be the only time that lying would be completely justified. Anyone would lie in this situation. It seemed almost altruistic to lie.

"Why don't you tell me what you think the truth is, Sam?" Derek asked.

Part Two: Sam.

Sam knew that Derek was going to be difficult because Derek was always difficult. But this was ridiculous.

Ralph kept looking from Derek to Sam, and then back down at his lunch. He was probably piecing the story together. He would nag Sam for the whole story later, just to make sure he had it right, and he would do it at the precise moment that Sam wanted to talk about it the least.

But that's just what they got for not filling him in sooner. Sam would take the punishment and get on with his life.

In the meantime, he was still dealing with Derek, and he didn't know how he was going to get a real answer out of him. Especially since Sam couldn't make himself ask the right questions. But now he was stuck. He'd painted himself into a corner, his Dad would say.

If Sam was being honest with himself, what he really wanted to do at that moment was to hop out of his seat and pitch a fit like a two year old. He could almost picture himself stomping his feet and asking the cafeteria at large why the universe seemed to hate him so much. _Why-why-why_??

The worst part of it was that he couldn't really blame Derek for anything. If Derek was into his stepsister, (and let's face it, it really looked like he was) he wasn't happy about it. He didn't ask for it. He had girls falling all over themselves to get next to him (another reason to hate him) but he wanted this one. And Sam didn't know Casey that well yet, but he did know that she really liked fighting with Derek, so much so that she forgot Sam was in the room, at least for a few minutes. None of this boded well for Sam.

"I thought you were going to read my mind for me, Sammy," Derek said. "I'm waiting."

"Okay," Sam said. He was completely prepared to lie, had fifteen good insults he could use to throw off the issue, but he couldn't do it. This was one of his two best friends and he wasn't going to play around with something this important.

He looked Derek in the eye and signed: "You like Casey."

Derek's eyes got big.

"I can't believe you just said that," Derek said.

"Me neither," Sam said.

Derek barked laughter, like it was the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever said to him. When a couple of people turned to look at him, he tried to stifle it with his hands.

"Good one," he signed, still laughing too hard to speak.

_He should go into acting,_ Sam thought. _Or politics. Never seen a liar this good. _Ralph was laughing a little, because the laugh was contagious, but Sam felt pretty immune to it.

"Why didn't you just tell me before I asked her out?" Sam signed.

"Tell you what?" Derek signed. "Nothing to tell, dumbass."

Sam looked down at his watch. They had maybe two minutes before the bell rang.

Derek got up to dump his tray, taking it to the other side of the cafeteria even though there was a trash can ten feet away. Ralph took Sam's tray and his own to the nearer can.

"Meet you upstairs," Ralph said. "Let me know what happens."

"Will do," Sam said. He chased Derek down and caught up with him by the exit. He stood in front of him, blocking the doors.

"Isn't your next class that way?" Derek said, pointing in the other direction.

"Yeah," Sam said, not moving. Derek tried to step around him, but Sam kept moving into the way.

"We need to talk about this later," Sam said.

"If you say so," Derek said, shrugging. Then the bell rang, startling Sam. It was that kind of strident ring that made him jump even when he knew it was coming.

Derek flicked a little wave at him and disappeared into the crowd. Sam had no choice but to let him go. Mrs. Pummelman would have Derek's guts for garters if he was late again, and Monsieur Johnson, who Sam and Ralph had for French, would just lock Sam out of the room and wave at him through the glass in the closed door.

But Sam knew that this was a really bad place to leave the conversation.

He made it to French on time, but spent the whole class staring down at his desk. He got called on, and miraculously managed to answer the question correctly. He got the feeling that this pissed Monsieur Johnson off royally, because he'd obviously been trying to catch Sam off guard.

_Curses, foiled again,_ Sam thought as Monsieur started to make Ralph read something with his horrible accent. Ralph happily butchered the language as Sam continued to worry about what he was going to say to Derek later, in study hall.

Between classes, Casey ran into Sam in the hallway.

"Hey Droopy," she teased. "What's the matter?"

"Double period of French," Sam said. "With Johnson."

"I have Mademoiselle Bouvier," Casey said. "I've heard all about Johnson, though. Yikes."

"Rub it in," Sam said.

"Poor Baby," Casey said. "There's only another hour to go, though."

"So I keep telling myself," Sam said. Casey leaned in, probably expecting a kiss on the mouth, but he put one on her cheek. It would have been cool to grab her and give her a proper chick flick kiss right there in front of God and all the hall monitors, but he didn't think he'd ever get the chance.

_Should've gone for it,_ Sam thought after she'd gone on her way. It wasn't like he'd gotten to kiss her on Saturday either. And now he never would.

_Get it over with,_ he thought as he entered the library. He found Derek at a table by some windows. He looked almost studious, surrounded by notebooks and an open textbook. If he didn't know that Derek was busy doodling, he would have felt bad about disturbing him.

He sat down across from Derek, who, catching the movement from the corner of his eye, looked up. Mrs. Webb, the librarian, didn't care what kids did in study hall as long as they were quiet, so Derek and Sam could talk about whatever they wanted to.

"Where were we?" Sam signed.

"You were being an idiot," Derek signed.

Sam shook his head, hopefully looking serious enough for Derek to stop messing around. "I'm gonna break up with C." he signed.

"No you won't" Derek signed.

"I have to," Sam signed. "I can't keep going out with her when you're in love with her."

"You're crazy," Derek signed.

"Yeah," Sam signed. "Keep that up."

"I'll tell you why," Derek signed.

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"I don't pine over girls," Derek signed. "I never have. If I wanted her, I would've gotten her."

"Arrogant much?" Sam signed, even though he'd been thinking the same thing.

"Much," Derek signed, nodding. He grinned at Sam. "You never would've had a chance."

"You wish," Sam signed.

"She likes you," Derek signed, putting emphasis on the "you" part. "If you dump her, you face her wrath. Me? I'm used to her wrath already, but it would kill you."

"You think?" Sam signed.

"Yeah. No way you could handle it," Derek signed.

"Shut up," Sam signed. "I mean you think she really likes me?"

Derek smacked his forehead.

"Do you need help dressing yourself in the morning?" Derek signed. "How clueless can you be? She didn't even yell at me this morning. She's all giggly, and I think I caught her singing. It's disgusting."

"Are you sure?" Sam signed.

Derek rolled his eyes.

"Just try not to make out in front of me, okay?" he signed. "I have a weak stomach. Can't even deal with Dad and Nora and their constant suckface. Between that and their cooking, it's a wonder I can keep anything down."

"Are you really sure?" Sam signed.

"Yes. Stop asking," Derek signed.

There was a pause. Sam looked around the room, hoping for inspiration for something else to say. Finally he signed, "okay." And Derek nodded.

"So isn't this the time for the old 'you break her heart, I'll break your face' speech?" Sam signed.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I'm too lazy. She'll break your face herself," he signed.

Part Three: Casey.

Casey sincerely hoped that whoever conceived the idea of having a math class last period was burning in hell right now. The teacher, Mr. Hall was okay. He knew how torturous it was and tried to lighten things up, joking around for the first half hour, then giving them problems to work on in groups. She and Em had had their problems done in ten minutes, so they talked for the rest of the time.

"So you think I'm worrying too much," Casey said.

"Always," Emily said.

"'Always?' You've only known me for a month!" Casey said.

"That's enough time," Emily said.

"Oh really!"

"Yeah," Emily said. "You have two settings: frantic and asleep."

"That is so not true!" Casey said, trying to sound put out, but the corners of her mouth kept quirking up.

"You keep telling yourself that," Emily said. "One day you might even believe it."

"You're supposed to be my friend, you know," Casey said.

"I am your friend. Otherwise it wouldn't be so much fun to bug you." Emily said.

"Hmph," Casey said, pouting. "I have a best friend who lives to mock me and a possible boyfriend who won't kiss me."

"He kissed you," Emily said.

"On the cheek," Casey said. "Is it my breath?"

"It's not your breath, Case," Emily said. "You were in the middle of the hallway. It's not like he had time to stick his tongue down your throat."

There was a snort from a red-haired girl sitting nearby. They both turned to look at her.

"Sorry," she said, holding her hands up. "Couldn't help but overhear that. But continue." She moved her desk a few feet away.

"Betcha can't wait until you learn to sign, huh?" Emily asked.

"Please, with my luck, half the school knows ASL, and they all learned it just for Derek," Casey said.

"Like _I_ did?" Emily said. "And like you're doing right now?"

"Ilive with him," Casey said. "And you've known him forever. That's different. But I'm finding out that you're right. He's like almighty God to this school. How did that happen anyway? He's in grade ten. Most people don't get popular like this until grade eleven or twelve."

"Hockey," Emily said, as if that explained everything. "And it doesn't hurt that he's so cute, right Holly?"

The redhead turned around again. "I wasn't listening," she said. "And _yes_." She gave up and swiveled in her chair. "So who was sticking whose tongue down your throat?"

Casey gasped. "Stop saying that!"

Emily ignored her. "Sam Smith," she said. "And the problem was that he _didn't_ stick his tongue down her throat. Yet."

"Oh my God," Casey said, covering her face.

"Aww," Holly said. "Sam? He's _shy_. Don't even worry about that."

"I was more worried about his best friend, aka my new _step_brother, scaring him off," Casey said.

"Why?" Holly asked. "What does he have on you?"

"If he doesn't have anything, he'll make something up," Casey said.

"Yeah, that sounds like Derek," Holly said. Emily laughed.

"See?" Casey said. "Holly thinks so, too! I'm. So. Doomed."

"Casey," Emily said. "Derek likes to tease you. That doesn't mean he's out to ruin your life."

"He's got a problem with me going out with Sam," Casey said.

"That's his problem," Holly said, shrugging.

"I've learned that his problems become my problems sooner or later," Casey said. "He's a real pain in the ass that way."

"So, what are you gonna do?" Holly asked.

"Right now there's nothing I can do," Casey said. "I have to wait and see. And you know what? I don't like to wait and see. I'm _not_ a wait-and-see kind of a girl."

"We know," Emily said.

The bell rang, and Mr. Hall told them to finish the problems he'd given them at home, which meant that Casey and Emily didn't have math homework, one of many reasons to like Mr. Hall.

She and Emily headed over to the locker they shared. Leaning awkwardly against it in an attempt to look cool, was Sam.

"Awww," Emily said.

Sam smirked at her, blushing and losing what little cool he had.

"Hi, _Casey," _Sam said. "I got about ten minutes before I gotta go to practice and I was just hoping to talk to you."

"Hint, hint?" Emily asked. Casey giggled.

"Well, _Sam_," Casey said. "I was hoping to talk to you, too."

"And _I_ was hoping to get into my locker," Emily said.

"Hint, hint," Sam said. "Sorry bout that, Em."

"Don't be sorry; just move," Emily said. "Are you taking the bus, Case?"

Casey looked at her watch. "Probably not," she said. "I'll just take the #18 later."

"Okay," Emily said, opening her locker and getting the last of her stuff. She handed Casey her jacket. "You kids have fun. Talk to you later."

"I'll call you," Casey said.

"Uh-huh," Emily said. "Be good."

"Yes, Mommy," Sam said.

"I was talking to _her_," Emily said.

"Aren't you about to miss the bus, Em?" Casey said. Emily stuck her tongue out and turned to leave.

"I can tell when I'm not wanted," Emily said on her way out.

"So?" Casey said, turning back to Sam. "What did you want to talk about?"

"What you wanted to do Friday night," Sam said.

"Oooh," Casey said. "Movie? Pizza?"

"Can do," Sam said. He had the single goofiest smile on his face. Casey wanted to get a picture of that goofy smile as soon as possible. She even had a frame she could use.

Sam moved a little closer.

"Um, hi," he said.

"Hello," Casey said. And then their lips met.

"Woot!" some random girl said as she passed. Sam laughed, pulling away just a few milimeters. Casey never got to see who it was. It didn't matter.

Somebody else lightly patted Sam on the back. "Go Sammy," the guy said.

Sam went in for another kiss, but was interrupted.

"I hate to break this up, Sammy," another guy said.

"Then don't," Sam said.

"Coach will kill us both if your ass isn't ready to get on the bus to the rink in five minutes," the guy said.

"Steeeve," Sam said. "Tell him I died."

"Despite Miss Thing's repeated attempts to revive you? Using only her lips?" Steve said. Then he turned to Casey. "I'm Steve, by the way, and you are?"

"Casey," Casey said, blushing.

"Nice to meetcha," Steve said. "Sorry to drag your boy away."

"I forgive you," Casey said.

"_I_ don't," Sam said. Steve laughed.

"Just try to make it quick, okay?" Steve said, heading toward the exits.

"Yeah, whatever; get lost," Sam said. "Okay, so I guess I have to run, Case."

"Yeah, you really do," Casey said.

He grabbed her and kissed her again before he turned and followed Steve out.

Part Four: Lizzie.

"No way," Edwin said, after trying the knob on the front door.

"What?" Lizzie asked.

"We're the first ones home," Edwin said. He had Marti hold up his bag as he began to plumb its depths for his keys. While they did that, Lizzie reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out her own keys, and opened the door.

"Okay," Edwin said. "That works too."

"Ha-ha," Marti sing-songed as she went inside.

"After you," Lizzie said, bowing.

"What," Edwin said. "You're not gonna carry me?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes and went inside. Edwin followed.

"So, who wants to spoil their dinner?" Edwin said, opening the window seat and pulling out a bag of cookies, the good kind with the chocolate chunks.

"I do," Marti said.

"Me too, I guess," Lizzie said. She wasn't used to breaking into the contraband chocolate.

"You guess?" Edwin said.

"But only if we have some milk," Lizzie said.

"Ooh you rebel you," Edwin said.

"Chocolate milk," Lizzie said.

"It's like I don't know you anymore," Edwin said, wide-eyed.

"Hush," Lizzie said. "I'm _not_ the uptight one in the family."

"I know," Edwin said. "You are the most laid back McDonald, but you gotta admit that ain't saying much."

"You really shouldn't bug me while I have control over your milk," Lizzie said, pausing with the spoon of cocoa powder halfway to his glass.

"Point taken," Edwin said, as meekly as he could, throwing in a little sad face for good measure. She gave him an extra spoonful.

Twenty minutes or so later, Casey came in, sat down at the counter and grabbed a cookie.

"Oh my gosh," Casey said, with her mouth full. "Where did you get these?"

"Are you talking with your mouth full?" Marti asked.

"What's it to ya?" Casey asked.

"Either you're in a really bad mood or a really good one," Lizzie said.

Casey smiled.

"Sam?" Lizzie asked.

"Sam," Casey agreed.

"Oooooooooooh," Marti sang. "Did you smooch?"

"Maybe," Casey said.

"You don't know for sure?" Marti asked.

"Yes, Marti," Casey said. "We..._smooched_."

"Ew," Edwin said, not meaning it. "What's on TV?" He started to leave, walked three or four steps, but then remembered his cookies and milk and came back for them.

"Are you going out?" Lizzie asked.

"Uh-huh," Casey said. "Friday."

The devil entered Lizzie's mind and took over. Maybe it momentarily left Edwin, Lizzie didn't know, but it certainly made Lizzie say what she said next.

"What are you gonna _wear_?"

"Oh my gosh!" Casey said. "What _am_ I gonna wear?"

"Can I help?" Marti asked. Lizzie pictured Casey in head to toe purple with feathers and sequins. With maybe a rhinestone or two, but, you know, nothing too over the top.

"I'll take suggestions," Casey said, carefully. "Maybe you can give me a consultation later tonight."

"Okay," Marti said. "I can pencil you in for that." She didn't even attempt the word consultation. She took the last of her milk into the living room to join Edwin in his _Drake and Josh _rerun.

Derek didn't come home until long after Mom and George did. They were working on dinner, chopping some things, stirring others, none of it looking like it did when people did it on TV.

Derek looked sweaty and cranky, dropping his nasty bag of stuff right in front of the door as he went upstairs. Casey's eyes kept returning to Derek's gym bag. She couldn't stop herself.

"I am _not _picking that up," she said.

"Nope," Lizzie said. Edwin and Marti were oblivious.

"If anyone thinks I am, they're nuts," Casey said.

"Right," Lizzie said.

"Oh, who am I kidding," Casey said, getting up and picking the bag up, holding it at arm's length and carrying it carefully into the laundry room, then running away from it like it was going to explode. Lizzie pretended not to notice.

Derek came down after his shower, chased Edwin out of his chair, but before he could sit down, Mom called everyone to dinner.

Mom signed the word "food" for the first time in front of anyone and that got Derek to smile a little.

"Not bad," Derek said. "Not bad. What else you got?"

"Sit down, and shut up," Mom signed. Lizzie knew that one because she'd been there when Mom looked it up and started to piece the words together.

Derek laughed, and then made a tiny correction to one of the signs and she did it again.

"There ya go," he said.

Over their chicken cutlets, George asked the usual "How was your day?" and was rewarded with a bubbling over Casey.

"Ask me what I'm doing Friday night," Casey said.

"What are you doing Friday night?" George asked. He looked at Mom and shrugged.

"Oh, nothing," Casey said. "Just a little date, is all."

Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti rolled their eyes all at once. Derek shoveled in mashed potatoes seemingly without a care in the world. It looked like he was missing the entire exchange.

"Where's Sam taking you?" Mom asked.

"More importantly when do I get to have a talk with him?" George asked.

"George," Casey said. "It's Sam. You've known him way longer than you've known me."

If Derek had been paying attention, Lizzie was sure that he would have had five good insults ready for that. She was leaving herself wide open.

"Anyway, we're just having pizza and seeing a movie," Casey said. "Strictly PG or PG13, I promise. Okay, George?"

"As long as Sam knows I have my eye on him," George said. "I'll put him on the list, right next to Dimi Davis."

Marti giggled. She knew that her wedding to Dimi was going to be perfect. She'd been planning it for a week already. She'd told Lizzie all about it.

Mom and George went around the table asking everyone. When they got to Derek, and Edwin tapped him, Derek rolled his eyes.

"Long, endless practice today," Derek said. "And the whole time, what do I get stuck looking at?"

"What?" George asked.

"Sam, wearing the single stupidest grin in this world," Derek demonstrated. "And dropping his stick. Being all noodle-armed and presenting no challenge whatsoever."

"He was?" Casey said. "Awww."

Derek shook his head in disgust. "If we start losing because you've turned him into Hugh Grant, there will be repercussions."

"Repercussions?" Casey asked.

"Look it up," Derek said.

"I _know_ what it means," Casey said.

"Okay," Derek said. "Then don't look it up."

"So what does it mean?" Marti asked. Edwin explained it.

"Are you mad at Casey?" Marti asked Derek. Edwin choked on a mouthful of greenbeans.

"Huh?" Casey asked.

"Huh?" Derek asked. Marti repeated the question, this time signing it, too, just to make sure.

"No more than usual, Smarti," Derek said.

"That's comforting," Casey said, shaking her head.

"I mean just because I now have a giggling idiot for a best friend," Derek said. "But I guess I'll live."

"Smerek," Marti said.

"I'm kidding, Smarti," Derek said. He made faces at her until she laughed.

It was Casey's turn to do the dishes, and she was in such a good mood that she actually did them, singing along to the radio the whole time. Derek excused himself to do homework, but no one was stupid enough to believe him. Lizzie and Edwin went upstairs to do their homework for real and to hang out in general.

They got to Edwin's room and shut the door. They sat down to their homework, both of them trying to finish as soon as possible, having more important things to do with their time.

But by the time they got to math, Lizzie couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, so I thought I was gonna die after what Marti said," Lizzie said.

"Me too," Edwin said. "But so did Derek, did you notice?"

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Then he lied through his teeth."

"He did but he didn't," Edwin said. "Told at least part of the truth, but pretended like he was joking. I need to learn how to do that."

"Me too," Lizzie said. "Casey didn't get it at all, you know."

"I know," Edwin said.

"She might figure it out," Lizzie said.

"Not likely," Edwin said.

"What about our parents?" Lizzie wondered.

"They don't have a clue," Edwin said.

Part Five: George.

"Poor kid," Nora said, sitting on the bed.

"World class liar, though," George said, unbuttoning his shirt and putting it on the back of a chair. "I shouldn't be proud of him for that, but I sort of am."

"I know what you mean," Nora said.

"I can't say that that's the first unselfish thing he's done, but it was a biggie," George said.

"And then there's Casey," Nora said. "I mean, I like Sam a lot. He really seems like a sweet kid."

"Great kid," George said.

"So none of this is fair to him," Nora said. "I just wish that this was something that we could stick our noses into. But if we could stick our noses in, I wouldn't know the first thing to do anyway."

"Maybe we should ask Derek if he's given any thought to the priesthood," George joked. "That would take care of things."

"Or if Casey maybe wants to join a convent?" Nora asked.

"Something tells me either one of them would accidentally bring about the apocalypse," George said. "So what's plan B?"

"We keep out of it, I guess," Nora said. "Even though I'm not really a 'keep out of it' kind of a girl."

"I know," George said."But I'll make sure you stick to the plan."

Part Six: Derek.

While most of the family, unbeknownst to him, was busy worrying about his welfare, Derek had only one thing on his mind: an ice cream sandwich. He tossed his paperback onto the bed and got up to go to the kitchen.

When Derek got there, he saw Casey bent over a notebook at the kitchen table. As she worked, she bopped her head and sang along to whatever must've been playing on the radio. He watched her get into the song. Apparently, a really good part came up, and she tossed her head back a little and closed her eyes as she held a note for a few extra seconds. She didn't notice him until he bumped the table as he passed her on the way to the fridge. From the corner of his eye, he saw her stiffen and stop singing. He turned in time to see her blush and go back to her homework. He laughed at her, then turned to the freezer.

While he rooted around in there, he was hit with several pieces of crumbled paper.

_Good aim, this one. I'm glad she hasn't thought of the knives yet_, he thought. But when he turned back to her, paper-wrapped ice cream in his mouth, he saw her smiling. She was embarrassed, but in too good a mood to kill him.

He put a cold hand on her arm because he couldn't resist, and she jumped and De-_rek_'d him. He smiled and headed back up to his room.


	10. Chapter 10

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Ten

Part One: Sam.

Dinner and a movie. Hard to screw up.

_Unless, you're me_, Sam thought.

He was on time, at least. He'd been worried about that. Casey, as much as he liked her, struck him as a foot tapper. He could see her standing on her porch, tapping her foot, checking her watch, and glaring disapprovingly at the empty sidewalk until Sam got there.

At least that didn't happen. As it turned out, she was running a little late. Or making an entrance. One of those.

In the ten minutes or so that he waited for her, Marti invited him to hang out with her. He'd barely sat down on the couch before she asked him to provide a theory about why nobody's lipstick ever got smudged on TV and why nobody ever had to take a shower.

"And you know when people get out of bed?" Marti asked. "Their hair isn't messed up!"

"Yeah," Sam said. "That _is_ weird."

"And they get out of bed, but they don't have to go to the bathroom," Edwin chimed in. Sam looked up to see Edwin coming down the stairs. "Don't worry, dude. She's coming."

"Good to know," Sam said.

"Unless she's changing again," Edwin said.

"Edwin!" Casey said from the top of the stairs. Edwin grinned at her. "Sorry, I'm late. Were you waiting long?"

Nah," Sam said. He stopped himself from sticking his hands into his hair. It was a nervous habit, and part of the reason he wore hats whenever possible. "You look nice."

"Good boy," Edwin said.

Sam tried not to laugh at that. Casey ignored it.

"So do you," she said.

"Good girl," Marti said. Sam snorted, pulled on the end of one of her braids.

"Are you ready?" Sam said.

"Uh-huh," Casey said.

Sam tried to be smooth, grabbing her jacket and holding it out for her, but he was startled by Derek who came trampling down the stairs with his usual grace. Sam dropped the jacket, but picked it up again quickly. Casey didn't seem to notice, since at the bottom of the stairs, Derek bumped her.

"S'cuse _you_," Derek said. "Sup Sammy."

"Should've known I wouldn't get out that easy," Casey said. "_Jerk_."

Derek's back was to her, so while she was still talking, he said. "Run while you still can. You have a clear shot at the door."

"Wait..._what_?" Casey asked.

"Looks like you're the one who needs to run," Sam said. He nodded toward Casey. Derek turned around in time for her to lunge at him. He laughed and jumped out of the way as her face turned red.

"Later," Derek said, grabbing his jacket and taking off, still laughing.

Sam looked at Casey's red face, and over at Marti and Edwin, who looked completely unconcerned, and tried desperately to think of something to say.

"Well, now that _he's_ out of our hair," Sam said, finally. It was the right thing to say. She smiled at him and it was like the guillotine jammed on its way down. He held the door open for her and then followed her out.

Sam lived in a house full of sisters, and the second that one of them heard about the possibility of a new girlfriend, they all had their two cents to put in.

"You're letting her pick the movie, right?" Karen asked. She'd called all the way from Kingston to nag him.

"Who even told you about this?" Sam asked.

"Mom," Karen said. "So tell me you're not going to drag this girl to see stuff blow up, right?"

"No, how clueless do you think I am?" Sam asked. "Don't answer that. Of course I'm gonna let her pick the movie. Jeez!"

"So? What about this girl?" Karen asked. "Who is she? What's her story?"

"Well," Sam said. "She's Derek's new stepsister. She just got here from Toronto—"

"How does Derek feel about that?" Karen asked.

"He complains about her constantly," Sam said. "Said something about being forced to eat salads and tofu and...uh, watch _Lifetime_, 'cause suddenly he's outnumbered by women. I said 'welcome to my world.'"

"Very funny," Karen said. "That boy could stand to get in touch with his feminine side."

"I'm sure that if he thought he had a feminine side, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of it," Sam said.

After Karen was done laughing, she said, "Seriously, is he okay with this? It could be weird."

"We talked," Sam said. "It's cool." He looked down at his hand and uncrossed his fingers.

"Mostly he backed off, because, he said, she really likes me," he admitted.

_There, was that so hard? _He thought.

"Where are you going afterwards?" Karen asked.

"I dunno," Sam said. "Pizza or whatever. Wherever she wants to go?"

"Right answer," Karen said. "There's hope for you yet."

His other two sisters, Danielle and Jennifer, had final outfit approval, banishing all flannel and Jennifer kept threatening to do things to his eyebrows. She might have been kidding, but he didn't want to take the chance.

So yes, Casey picked the movie, and he carried her pretzel bits and her drink for her. He even had an extremely close call with a little boy who had come careening out of nowhere and had smashed into Sam, who went sprawling. He not only went sprawling, but he went sprawling and hit the ground after two or three failed attempts to regain his footing, so the fall looked extra cartoony. He was so beyond lucky that he'd sprung for the bottled fruit punch, and that Casey wasn't a fan of the nacho cheese dip they sold and had gotten packets of mustard instead.

The kid, of course, screamed like he was being wrapped in barbed wire, but his mother was cool enough to apologize to Sam while she dragged the kid away. Meanwhile, it seemed like half the theater saw the whole thing, and, peopled as it seemed to be with twelve and thirteen year old girls, there was a lot of pointing and laughing.

Casey put out a hand to help him up.

"Aren't you glad that you didn't get popcorn?" she asked.

"Very much so," Sam said. He still felt eyes on him when he got to his feet, so he thought _What Would Derek Do?_ And took a little bow.

"Thank you," Sam said. "I'm here all week."

"Why do I get the feeling that we're perfect for each other?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Your lips, God's ears. All that good stuff."

"Awww," Casey said, putting an arm around him and leading him into the theater. She'd decided on _Corpse Bride_, and that, to Sam, seemed like another nail in the coffin.

_Do not blow it with this one_, Sam thought. _She likes Tim Burton. _

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, the movie was amazing and both of them had watched it. If it had sucked, they would have found something else to do. Like make out. But he had to content himself with her head on his shoulder, which was pretty cool.

Part Two: Casey.

After the movie, they decided just to go to a nearby diner instead of trying to get seated at Pizza N Stuff on a Friday night. The restaurant was mildly busy, but it still took inordinately long for their waitress to take their order. It alternately made Casey nervous and pissed her off, but Sam was being very Zen, so she tried to follow his example.

He kept her talking; that helped.

"How awesome was that movie?" Sam asked.

"So awesome," Casey said. "How hard do you think it would be to be Corpse Bride for Halloween?"

"I dunno," Sam said. "They might even be selling the costume."

"Who buys a costume?" Casey said. "Mom always used to make ours."

"Cut holes in old sheets?" Sam asked. "Go as a ghost?"

"Um...no," Casey said. "I was Hermione a couple of times."

"I can see that," Sam said.

"What about you?" Casey asked.

"Standard issue stuff," Sam said. "Zombie usually. My sisters used to do good zombie makeup. I don't like to talk about it, but since Derek is sure to bust me, I was a hobo once."

"Awww," Casey said.

"With the bandana tied to the pole, and, like, burnt cork beard stubble."

"Awww," Casey repeated. "Were there pictures?"

"NO!" Sam said. Which meant yes. They would probably surface if she was patient.

"What's funny?" Sam asked, looking at her suspiciously.

"Nothing," Casey said.

"Stop picturing me in embarrassing Halloween costumes," Sam said.

"But it's fun!" Casey said. "You said you looked good in an eyepatch. Do you know that because you were a pirate one year?"

"No," Sam said. "I said I _might_ look good in an eyepatch. That means I have yet to wear one."

"Well," Casey said. "Halloween is coming..."

"So not happening," Sam said.

Casey pouted. Sam imitated her.

"Quit it!" Casey said. "Emily told me about a Halloween party and I wanna go."

"Okay," Sam said. "Go."

The lower lip stuck out a little further. "You don't wanna come with me?"

"I didn't say that...exactly," Sam said. "I'm just not a fan of public humiliation, which is why I don't do costumes."

"You're no fun," Casey said. She'd just have to wear him down later.

"So," Sam said in an overbright 'Let's Change the Subject' kind of way. "You have more classes tomorrow, right?"

"Yep," Casey said. _Smooth segueway, Sam_, she thought. She smirked at him.

"Where the heck is this waitress?" Casey asked.

"We don't look like we're gonna tip," Sam said. "Happens all the time."

"I tip!" Casey said.

"Me too," Sam said. "But we're teenagers and nobody loves us. We'll give her ten minutes, sound good?"

Casey nodded.

Sam asked again about her dance class.

"That's going smoothly so far," Casey said. "I might get to be in the recital in a couple months. I'm more worried about the ASL class. How long did it take you to get good at it?"

"I'm good at it?" Sam asked. "I dunno. Me and Ralphie have been at it for, like, ten years, but I dunno. We all understand each other. I don't really think about it."

"That means you're good at it," Casey said. "I mean, can you think in ASL or do you have to translate?"

He thought about that for a second. "Know what?" he said. "I think I do think in ASL sometimes."

He seemed surprised.

"That's the thing," Casey said. "Do you have any idea how amazing that is? I feel like I'm never gonna get there. I see Edwin and Marti, and I know that they grew up with both, so it's a non-issue with them, and I'm really jealous because I'm always gonna be a little bit clumsy."

"You've taken _one class_," Sam said. "Give it a couple more before you get all pessimistic."

"It's not like I'm giving up or anything," Casey said. "I just hate being bad at stuff. I've been studying every night..."

"Have you?" Sam said, an eyebrow up.

"Why," Casey asked.

"Show me," Sam signed. She wanted to dance around the room at the fact that she understood. Besides greetings and "yes" and "no," usually she could pick maybe three words out of a conversation with any confidence and they were usually the simple ones like "now" or "me" or "book" or "food." This last one was one that Derek used often.

The waitress picked this moment to turn up. She'd noticed Sam signing and turned immediately to Casey.

"Sorry it took so long to get to you guys," she said. "There was a crisis in the kitchen."

"Um...okay," Casey said, looking at Sam, who was smirking back at her.

She turned to Sam. "Do-you-guys-want-to-hear—_I mean_—"

Sam's smile widened.

"Do-you-guys-want-to-know-the-specials?"

"It's okay," Sam said. "Relax. We can both hear ya fine."

She turned red. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. People keep telling me what happens when you assume. You know? You make an 'ass out of you and me' and—know what? Let me stop. I'm sorry. Did you guys want the specials?"

"I think I just want a cheeseburger deluxe," Sam said. "What about you, Case?"

"Chicken salad sandwich," Casey said. "With the watercress?"

"To drink?" the waitress asked.

"Cola," Sam said.

"Ditto," Casey said.

They waited until she walked away before they said anything else.

Sam snickered. "That's never happened to me before," he said.

"Does this happen to Derek?" Casey asked.

"Once in a while, yeah," Sam said. "He wouldn't have let her off the hook that easy. And she wasn't even that bad. He's had a couple of people act like he was a little slow."

_Derek's a lot of things_, Casey thought. _But he's not slow_. "Not really," Casey said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "But sometimes people also have a hard time believing that he's deaf at all. They think he's kidding."

"If he were kidding, wouldn't he have laid it on thicker?" Casey asked.

"Totally," Sam said. "He wouldn't speak anywhere near as well as he does. And he'd probably keep misunderstanding people on purpose."

"Hmm," Casey said. S_orta like the way he did with me when we met._ But then she thought: _He didn't pretend to misunderstand me actually. To be fair, he just didn't say anything. Looked at me like I was a Martian. That could have meant anything. He looks at me like I'm a Martian now, too, but he passes the salt when I ask for it. _

"What," Sam asked, after she'd been quiet for a while.

"Nothing," Casey said.

"So I thought that you were gonna show me something?" Sam said.

"Oh, no," Casey said. "Nope, no way."

"Come on," Sam said. "Just spell something. 'Salt shaker.'"

"Is that one word or two?" Casey asked.

"We'll go with two," Sam said. "Go 'head. 'Salt shaker.'"

After she did it, he said. "Now 'ketchup.'"

"Am I gonna spell stuff all night?" Casey asked.

"Maaaybe," Sam said. "Nah, just until you've spelled everything on the table. Then we move onto phrases."

Casey folded her hands on the table and said, "Yes, Mr. Smith."

Sam shuddered.

Part Three: Derek.

They were at the mall. They'd planned to see _Red Eye_ at the Multiplex, but it had been sold out when they got there. Thankfully, Linda had been willing to wander aimlessly for a while and get some pizza. There was a mini arcade in the pizza place, so they took turns losing games after they ate.

Linda had some green in her eyes. Derek realized that he really should've noticed that before. He noticed it as he watched her lose at the video game she was playing...Ultimate Something or Other, it didn't matter.

What was entertaining was the way she bit her lip when she tried not to curse at the game. He also kept checking to see if the green came from contacts or what? And maybe that was why he didn't notice them before. He must've looked like a psychotic.

"What?" Linda said, looking up at him. Then she stomped her foot and said something he didn't understand. It might've been Spanish. It meant that she lost the game anyway. He'd ask her to write it down later.

"Sorry," she said. "So what's up?"

_Don't say it. It'll sound like a line, and a dorky one at that_, Derek thought.

"Um, I just noticed that you have green in your eyes," he said, and mentally kicked himself. "Just now."

"Everybody says that," she said. "It's a lighting thing. People notice it at odd times."

"And everybody says it randomly," Derek said.

"Yep," Linda said. "Do people do that to you? Like 'oh my gosh, you have the longest eyelashes I've ever seen?'"

"Not usually," Derek said. "But I think I like it." He grinned at her.

She reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Your hair's getting long again," she said. She put her hand on his cheek and ran a thumb across his cheekbone. He started trying to think of places the two of them can duck into for a little privacy.

_There's that fake potted tree_, he thought. _Nah_,_ too obvious. Photo Booth? More obvious. Fitting room? Only if I wanna be arrested. Crap. _

"Stairwell?" Linda asked. Derek figured it wasn't too hard to guess what he'd been thinking.

"Okay," Derek said. _Smart girl, this one_, he thought.

It was the opposite of romantic. There was a bit of a stink in there, but they went down a flight and found a spot where some of the glass brick was missing and a breeze came in. All of it made Derek seriously want to rethink his PDA rule or at least buy his damn movie tickets online from now on.

_Why didn't I get em online?_ Derek thought. _Oh yeah, Dad wouldn't let me use his card. That's it. _

Plus, his Dad had said something about buying movie tickets in advance guaranteeing it that he'd be late. It had sounded like a reasonable argument at the time, but now...

"Yeah," Derek said. "So this—"

And God bless her, Linda went for the kiss, shutting him up.

"Oh," Derek said. Linda giggled.

"You are so lucky I like you, 'cause this place is nasty," she said.

"But I thought the flickering light and the peeling paint would be perfect," Derek said.

"Don't forget the cigarette butts," Linda said.

"Added bonus," Derek said. "I'm an idiot. And I want a milkshake. Do you want a milkshake?"

"Yeah," she said.

They went back up the flight of stairs to the main floor and for a split second Derek was sure that he'd find out that the door locked behind them, but it opened and they emerged into a slightly better ventilated food court.

Later, Linda's sister, Gloria, picked them up. Derek supposed that that was better than having her Dad pick them up, but not much. Gloria was eighteen going on forty-five, and managed to give Derek the stink eye the whole way home, like she couldn't wait to get him out of her car. What exactly had put the stick up her butt was a mystery, but he tried his best to be pleasant despite his growing discomfort.

_Hell, maybe she just didn't wanna pick us up in the first place,_ Derek thought. _That's probably it._ Still, every time the girl looked at him, he felt like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. After all, what trouble could he possibly get into with Linda riding in the front seat and him in the back?

Added to the general discomfort that came with Gloria's attitude, there was the knowledge that the two of them were talking up there and he had no way of knowing what they were talking about. They could have been talking about him or they could've been arguing about whose turn it was to take out the trash. He was too nosy not to have that bug him.

Then, suddenly, Linda's hand reached above her head and flicked on the light. She turned in her seat as far as the seatbelt would allow and faced him.

"Hey," she said. "How you doing back there? Bored as shit?" Gloria gave her a little whack for cursing.

"I'm good," he lied. She grinned at him. He began to try to figure out how many days until his sixteenth birthday. A license would greatly reduce if not put an end to crap like this. He started to do the math in his head when they pulled up to his house.

_Hallelujah_, he thought. The ride took maybe fifteen minutes, if that, but he'd been thinking that he'd die before he got home.

He remembered his manners, thanked Gloria for the ride and smiled at her. She fake smiled back. He shrugged. Linda hopped out of the car and walked with him to the door.

"Thanks for not saying anything to her," Linda said.

"Can't exactly bite the hand that drives you home," Derek said.

"We'll have licenses soon," Linda said. "And it could've been worse. Could've been my _Dad_."

He laughed, pretending that he hadn't thought of that.

"I still had a good time," Linda said. "Did you have a good time?"

Derek nodded. "Maybe next time we'll actually get into the movie."

"Yeah," Linda said. "I hope I get to ignore a movie with you soon."

There was an extra beat before he realized the difference between what he'd expected her to say and what she'd actually said. His smile widened.

"As soon as possible," he said.

He leaned in to kiss her, but right before he got to, she jumped and looked back at the car. She turned to her sister and held her arms out, in the universal gesture of "what the _hell_?"

She turned back to Derek, embarrassed.

"She honked," Linda explained apologetically before going up on tiptoe and giving him a quick peck on the mouth before her sister could make her displeasure known again.

"Text me," Linda said as she walked backwards down his driveway.

He nodded. She turned around and headed toward the car, which drove off as soon as she'd climbed in, before her door was even shut all the way.

He let himself into the house and was greeted by the sight of the 'rents on the couch.

"How'd it go?" Nora asked. She had a look on her face like she could read his mind and thought what she read there was really funny.

"Okay," Derek said.

"Just okay?" Nora asked.

Derek tried to wipe the smile off his face, which seemed to amuse Nora no end.

"How was the movie?" Dad asked.

"Sold out," Derek said. "We just sorta hung around the mall."

"I've raised a mallrat," Dad said.

"You must be so proud," Nora said.

"Very funny," Derek said.

"There's cake if you want it," Nora said.

Derek nodded. "Good to know," he said, as he headed upstairs. The cake would hit the spot at around 2am if he woke up.

When he passed the bathroom, he noticed that the door was open and the light was on, so he poked his head in.

Casey was bent over the sink performing some kinda complicated ritual involving cotton balls and stuff in jars. She was in a t-shirt and pajama pants, her hair pulled back tighter than usual in a headband. He watched as she washed her face with some green stuff, and eyes closed, reached for a towel. After she was done rubbing her face, she opened her eyes and jumped.

"De-_rek_!" she said.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Taking my makeup off," Casey said. "What's the big deal?"

"I dunno," he said. "I guess I expected a jackhammer to be involved."

She rolled her eyes and shoved him. Her face was all shiny and her eyelashes wet and bunched. He didn't often see her scrubbed clean like this, so he kinda wanted to stare for a bit.

"What do you want?" she asked, pausing in putting all of her stuff away to face him.

"To use the bathroom," he said, not missing a beat. "Do you want details?"

She made an "ew" face and turned to leave. He reached up and pinched her cheek before she batted his hand away. Then he made sure that her shoulder bumped his on the way out.

Part Four: Casey.

Nothing was going to kill her good mood. Even Derek's habitual jerkiness came off almost friendly. He must be in too good of a mood to properly piss her off.

She went into her room and switched her stereo on low, putting in a Lifehouse CD and sitting down to braid her hair before she went to bed.

Then Derek poked his head in.

"What?" Casey asked.

"Nothing," Derek said. "Just felt like bugging you."

"I know how you live to do that," Casey said. "But you can't bug me. I am unbuggable."

"I like a challenge," Derek said.

Casey smiled. That wasn't the response Derek was looking for.

"Aren't you tired?" Casey asked. She could tell that he was. One thing gave it away. She was starting to learn that when he was tired, either late at night or really early in the morning, his diction went out the window. Enunciation became a foreign concept.

And just like that, he suppressed a yawn.

"Ha!" she said. "Thought so."

"Shaddup," he said. He smiled a little, embarrassed. It was sorta cute.

"Go to sleep," she said.

"I'll just torment you in the morning," he said. "'Night Casey." He pronounced it "Kay-shee," and something about that stuck in her head, and gave her the shivers.

"'Night Derek," she said.


	11. Chapter 11

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Eleven.

Part One: Nora.

_No._ Nora thought. _Just say no. It's not that hard._

Her sister Fiona was on the phone and she wanted something.

"Fiona, I don't think—"

"But the wedding is Saturday and the pipes burst in the hall where we were gonna have the reception!" Fiona whined. "And _you're_ my sister." This was the kind of non-sequitur that Nora had come to expect from her sister, but she decided that it was in her best interest to pretend not to understand.

"I fail to see what one has to do with the other, Fee," Nora said.

"You have to help me!" Fiona said.

"What would you have me do?" Nora asked. "Bring paper towels? And an extra mop?"

Fiona gave a little grunt of frustration. Nora pictured foot stomping. Sometimes, when she talked to her sister, or once in a while, her parents, Nora really did feel like she'd been freeze-dried at the age of twelve.

"Help me find another place!"

"By Saturday?" Nora asked. It was Wednesday. "You're kidding, right?"

"How big is your new place?" Fiona asked.

After a few minutes of laughter, Nora realized that there was silence on the other end.

"Um, Fiona," Nora said. "That would be a bad idea on a few levels."

Fiona disagreed. After probably ten minutes of non-stop wheedling, Nora got desperate.

"It's not even my house, Fiona!" Nora yelped.

George was unlucky enough to walk into the room at that moment.

"What are you talking about?" George asked. "Of course it's your house." He looked to Nora like he was about to go off on a "what's mine is yours" tangent, but Nora stopped him with waving arms and bulging eyes.

But Fiona heard him.

"See?" she said. "George agrees."

"George does _not _agree," Nora said.

"What do I not agree with?" George asked.

Nora thrust the phone at him, with her hand over the mouthpiece. "Tell her that we cannot have her wedding reception in this house," she whisper-screamed.

"Oh," George said. "Um, Fiona? I know you haven't actually seen our house yet, so you should take my word that—no Fiona we haven't been keeping you away on purpose. Of course not. It's just that –no Fiona, we didn't purposely exclude you from our wedding either, there just wasn't time to do too much and Nora says you were on vacation that weekend...and how was it, by the way?"

_Poor George_, Nora thought. _Right into the fire. Hanging judges have nothing on my sis._

"Yeah, mosquitoes will do that," George said. He looked at Nora in disbelief. He sat on the edge of the bed and was quiet for a minute or two. Finally, he sighed. "So—how many people did you have in mind? Well, that might be a bit of a squeeze, but I'm sure the last time Derek threw a party, he had more than that..." George started taking notes.

Nora, for her part, tried to think of what needed to be done first.

"What's going on in here?" Edwin asked from the doorway.

_Oh God_, Nora thought. _They need to be told don't they? Freakin' Fiona and her freakin' wedding. I swear, she dates this guy forever and no wedding. Suddenly I have a wedding so she has to have one too. _

"Edwin, hon, when did you get home?" Nora avoided. "What happened to your piano lesson?"

"It's off for the week," Edwin said. "Mrs. B. had to go to somebody or other's christening in Nova Scotia, so I am officially off the hook till next week."

He grinned like it was a snow day. Nora hated to spoil it.

George put down the phone and stared at it for a second, like he was afraid it would bite him. Nora and George looked at each other and then they turned to Edwin.

"Uh-oh," Edwin said.

"That about sums it up, kiddo," George said. "But on the bright side, you get to meet Nora's relatives."

"I'm confused," Edwin said.

"Join the club," George said. "Before we start puzzling this out, is there anyone else home yet?"

"Nope," Edwin said. "Why?"

"I was hoping to tell as many of you at once as possible," George said. "To cut down on the drama."

"Well now you gotta tell me," Edwin said.

"You're right, Ed," Nora said. They were making too big a deal of it. Who knew what the kid was imagining right then?

"We're having my sister's wedding reception here," Nora said.

"_Here_?" Edwin asked.

"On Saturday," Nora said.

"Bwahahahaa!" Edwin said. He sat down on the bed, and immediately slid off of it and onto the floor, still giggling. "That was a great one! You're gonna get Casey with it later, right?"

"We'll be telling everybody about it over dinner, I guess," George said, stone faced. If she didn't know better, Nora would've thought he was kidding, too. One look at the house would only reinforce the ridiculousness of the idea.

Part Two: Casey.

"All in all, I think I'm handling this pretty well," Casey said. She, Lizzie, and Emily were in Casey's bedroom, filling little scraps of lace with Jordan almonds and tying them with ribbons.

"That's why you've been knotting that one ribbon for the last five minutes?" Emily asked.

"Dammit," Casey said, trying to undo the knots.

"I dunno what you're so worried about anyway," Emily said. "The house looks great."

"It's not the house I'm stressed about," Casey said.

"Derek then?" Emily asked. Lizzie, who had been busily crunching on nuts, shook her head.

"Vicki," Lizzie said, after she was done chewing.

"Lay off the almonds, Liz," Casey said. "Looking at those things makes my teeth hurt."

"Who's Vicki?" Emily asked.

"Our cousin, Victoria," Casey explained. "Mom says it's Victoria now. God knows what'll happen if we call her Vicki."

"She bites," Lizzie said.

Emily seemed to think that they were exaggerating. Casey still had a faint bite mark on her leg from when they were seven and Casey wouldn't let Vicki touch her new backpack. The fact that Lizzie actually still remembered the incident said a lot. She'd been three and a half at the time.

"So you're saying that her eyes glow red and her head spins?" Emily said.

"You've met her, then?" Casey said.

"C'mon, you guys," Emily said. "Everybody has at least one relative like that. It's not that bad."

"Who's yours?" Casey asked.

"Uncle Jim," Emily said, not missing a beat. "He's your typical 'Can-You-Top-This' guy. We tune him out."

"Can't tune out Icky Vicki," Lizzie said. "She's like a big air horn."

"More like a cricket that crawled in through an open window and hid in your room," Casey said. "It's in your room someplace. It's chirping and chirping but you just can't find it and the constant noise drives you nuts."

"Oookay," Emily said.

"Derek and Edwin are gonna be taking video," Lizzie said. "There'll be proof."

"Yes!" Casey said, a finger in the air. "Proof. You'll see."

"How happy are you that you can't make it?" Lizzie asked.

"I dunno," Emily said. "I'm kinda curious. I'd totally come if I weren't going to my Grandma's."

"_I_ wanna go to your Grandma's," Casey said.

"You'll be _okay_, Casey," Emily said, patting her shoulder for the umpteenth time.

"You keep saying that," Casey said. "And I know you believe it, but..."

"Can _I_ go to your Grandma's?" Lizzie asked. "You can say I'm adopted."

"You guys are flipping out over one fifteen year old girl," Emily said.

_Look at this poor thing trying to be reasonable and logical at a time like this_, Casey thought. _Isn't it cute?_

"You could probably take her in a fight," Emily said.

"Okay, we might have made it sound like it's just Vicki, but it's not," Casey said. "Aunt Fiona's a drama queen."

Emily seemed to think that this was funny for some reason. And so did Lizzie.

Casey threw an almond at Emily.

"I'm serious!" Casey said. "She has this weird power over my Mom. It's like, she gets nuts and that drives Mom nuts, which in turn drives the rest of us nuts."

Emily and Lizzie looked at each other and laughed a little more.

"Now add all of that to the sixty-odd people leaving napkins and toothpicks in between the sofa cushions and using one bathroom." Casey said.

"What about the bathroom in the basement?" Emily asked.

"No one ever thinks to use that one," Casey said.

"Are these almond thingees multiplying in the bowl?" Emily asked.

"Mom bought way more than we'd ever need," Casey whispered.

"Why?" Emily whispered back.

It didn't take her too long to find out.

"Edwin!" Casey said, slapping his hand away from the bowl. He was too fast for her, though, and came up with a handful.

"Are your hands clean at least?" she asked.

"Of course," Edwin said, mock offended. "I've been cleaning the toilet all day!"

Casey groaned. Emily and Lizzie laughed.

"Sad part of this is I'm not sure if he's kidding," Casey said.

"'Course I'm kidding," Edwin said. "_I _didn't clean the bathroom."

"Did anybody?" Casey asked. "Do I have to do _that_ now?"

"_I_ did," Lizzie said. "Relax. Breathe, Casey."

"I just want it to be over," Casey said.

"Thought you said it'd be fun to plan the reception," Lizzie said.

"That's just what I told Mom," Casey said.

"What else do you need to do?" Emily said.

Casey put down the bowl of almonds that she'd been unconsciously crunching on and turned to pull the clipboard off of her nightstand to consult the checklist.

"Still need to move the furniture in the living room, but George said he'd do that in the morning. And we gotta put up the last of the decorations. Mom's picking up the cake, so...all we have to do tonight is finish these things," Casey said, gesturing to the bowl and the pile of wrapped almonds.

"We're almost out of lace and ribbons," Emily said.

"Yeah, I slipped Marti a few of them so she could make wedding dresses for her dolls," Casey said. "But I didn't say that."

"Oooh, I'm telling," Edwin sing-songed.

"Only if you want your Dad to know what really happened to the vase in the hallway," Casey said.

"I thought you were supposed to be above blackmail," Edwin said.

"Who said that?" Casey asked.

"Looks like she's one of you now," Emily teased.

"Yeah," Edwin said. "When did that happen?"

"When _did_ that happen?" Casey asked.

"When did what happen," Derek asked from the doorway.

"We've finally gotten Casey to come over to the dark side," Edwin said.

"I thought we had better security than that," Derek said. "It's gotten so that anyone can come in."

"Speaking of which," Casey said as he came into the room and stuck his hand in the almond bowl. She poked him to get him to look at her. "I said 'speaking of which'... what are you doing in here?"

"The word around the house is that there's sugar to steal," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And here I am!" Emily joked.

Derek laughed and signed something to her. Casey caught the words "bed" and "late" and thought she could piece the rest together.

Emily laughed.

"Not even close," she said. "I haven't had my milk and cookies yet. Or my story."

Derek pointed at Casey and signed something else to Emily, who laughed again.

"Stop doing that!" Casey said. "It drives me nuts and you know it!"

Derek grinned, turned to her and signed, "Too bad. Study more."

It was all she could do to pretend that she didn't understand what he said while inwardly squealing at the fact that she did understand. Over the past few weeks, Sam had been an excellent tutor. She just hoped that Sam could keep a secret.

"You're such a pain," Casey said.

"I try," Derek said. He grabbed another handful of the candy. He nodded at Emily, who dissolved into a puddle at the mere sight of his smile.

_We gotta get her over that_, Casey thought, not for the first time. _What does she even see in him? _

"Later," he said, turning to leave. He grabbed Edwin by the collar and dragged him out.

"Don't look at me like that," Emily said. "I'm working on it, okay?"

"One day at a time, Em," Casey said.

The next day, even amid the chaos that came from Derek trying to give Edwin a wet willie, Marti refusing to change clothes and Mom trying to make it across the house without dropping the cake, Casey felt a little better about the whole enterprise. She had her clipboard; she was on schedule, and all seemed possible.

Her Mom kept thanking her for being such a great help. Finally, she was getting a little appreciation.

Then Victoria showed up.

Part Three: George.

He couldn't wait to meet this Harry guy. If for nothing else, for the value of the story, George needed to know what type of guy went hiking for his bachelor party.

As it turned out, hiking was a bit of a strong word for what they were doing. What they were doing had more to do with drinking beer and eating junk food while sitting on some rocks.

"So, how'd you get into 'hiking'?" George asked.

"I actually do like a good, for-real hike once in a while," Harry said. "Just not today."

"Fiona wouldn't let him have a stripper," Harry's friend, Mark, said.

"Oh, I get it," George said.

"Must keep the boss happy," Harry said.

"Have you learned the two words that every man needs to know?" George asked.

"You mean 'yes dear?'" Mark asked.

"Those are the ones," George said.

They clinked their beer cans together.

George, who was driving, had a root beer, but he told himself that it still counted. He'd grab a real one, or two, at the reception later. Meanwhile, this wasn't anywhere near as bad as he thought it would be.

Harry was okay. George found out that he'd just taken over an auto body shop, and was finally starting to turn a profit. They shared a love of cars and mechanical stuff in general. The only difference being that Harry knew what he was talking about and George only liked to think that he did.

George had three things on Harry, though: sobriety, coordination, and a working knowledge of first aid. The last thing came in handy after Harry tripped, spraining his ankle. George and Mark were able to wrap it and support Harry as he hobbled back down the trail to the car.

On the way to the emergency room, there was a text from Derek:

_Caterers are stupid. Casey canned 'em. Accident with cake. Vicki is evil. Casey is Casey. Suggestions?_

_Good luck,_ George texted back. The kid was really good at summing up huge amounts of information in a few words. George groaned at the mess the kids were probably in. He could almost see it. But all he could do was tell Derek where he was and what had happened, apologizing that he couldn't be of more help right then.

_Where's Nora?_ George asked.

_Getting hair re-done_, Derek replied. _Long, funny story. Got it on film though._

_Good deal_, George texted. _Gotta turn off the phone in ER. TTYL._

Part Four: Derek.

Everybody knew that Casey lived to exaggerate and see trouble when there was no trouble. So he hadn't taken her seriously as she squirreled around, freaking out about this whole wedding thing. He didn't take her seriously as a rule, but, this time, Nora and Lizzie's reactions made him wonder what they knew that he didn't.

_This is gonna be entertaining_, he thought.

This Victoria character was amazing. He'd never seen someone hurl so many insults at so many people in such a short period of time. And she did it all with a smile. If you could call it that. Her face had a permanent look of "who farted?" on it.

Poor Lizzie didn't know whether to hide or go medieval on her ass. Derek could see her debating the relative merits of each.

"You're cute," Victoria told Derek. He winked.

"So, does _he_ understand what's going on?" Victoria asked Casey.

"Why?" she asked. "Did you want him to explain it to _you_?"

Both the insult and Derek's shocked reaction to it seemed to go over Victoria's head as she started to babble about how she wasn't going to help with the wedding at all and how she didn't want to come. Derek was distracted by the realization that Edwin had swung the camera over to his face.

That woke him up. He guided Edwin back over to Casey and Victoria. Any shots of him looking stupid would end up on the cutting room floor later. There are perks that come with being the director.

"Sorry about her," Lizzie said.

"No worries," he said.

Of course, now this meant that his day was ruined. He'd been looking forward to a nice, relaxing day of watching Casey slowly lose her marbles and documenting it for posterity, but now that was over.

He was going to have to _help_.

The dilemma became how to do so without looking like he was helping.

Victoria flopped onto the couch dramatically, like a bad soap opera actress trying to audition for an aspirin commercial.

_Wow, make yourself at home_, he thought. While she had her eyes covered, he stole a peek at her legs. _Not bad, not as good as Casey's._

_Dammit, stop thinking about those!_ Derek thought. He shook his head but not before she caught him looking. She raised an eyebrow at him.

In Derek, the flirt response is so automatic, that he doesn't usually realize that he's doing it. He gave her the eyebrow right back and gave her half a smile.

"You come sit by me, cutie," she said. She patted the seat next to her with a little more emphasis than a dog would need to get the idea.

_Woof, woof_, he thought, and sat down.

"I'll tell you all about the time Casey swallowed a bug at an amusement park," Victoria said. She turned to Edwin, who was sitting in the recliner and said something to him. By the way she moved her hands, he guessed that she was asking for a translator.

"He reads lips," Edwin said. When she turned back to Derek, he nodded.

He steeled himself for a Casey-esque tirade asking why he didn't say so before, but it didn't look like this girl had a curious bone in her body.

"Oh, well that makes it easier, then," she said. She launched into the story, talking for fifteen minutes straight about something that had been pretty well summed up by that first sentence. And somehow she'd managed to make herself the heroine of the whole thing.

Once in a while, Casey or Lizzie would flit by, to grab something, or to let the hair people in. Marti came down in her little purple flower girl dress, flouncing her skirt the whole way to the kitchen.

After Nora kicked the hair people out and dragged her busily weeping sister upstairs and out of the house, he decided that he was sick of Queen Victoria. Derek himself had laughed a little at the mess the hair and makeup people had made of Fiona, but Miss Vicki had been having too much fun at her Mom's expense. Derek didn't know the woman at all, but she'd been nicer to him than Vicki herself had been, so he was a little put off. He was reminded of the nickname that Casey and Lizzie (and Nora) had been using around the house over the last few days: Icky Vicki. It fit.

Casey leaned against the counter, eyes closed, breathing deeply. It looked like she was counting to ten. He was sure it wasn't the first time that day that she'd done that.

She looked up and caught him filming her. She shot a dirty look at the camera.

He shrugged it off. He put the camera down on the counter and went to the refrigerator for a snack. When he turned around again, he noticed Casey staring at Marti, her eyes coming out of her head.

"How many did you eat?" she asked.

"How many what?" Derek asked.

"Berries off of the flowers," Casey said. She almost knocked Derek over as she went for the phone.

"Okay," he said. "Spit em out, Marti."

He held out a hand for her to spit into, and when she did, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Plastic," he told Casey before she could dial 911. Casey's eyes had gotten huge and it occurred to him that he only _thought_ that he'd seen her freak out before.

"It's okay," he said. "They're plastic. No one's gonna die."

He turned to Marti and gave her a mini-lecture about not eating berries if she didn't know what kind they were.

"Got it Smarti?"

"Got it, Smerek." Marti looked ready to cry. Casey had freaked her out a little.

_At least she won't do it again,_ he thought. Then he tickled her and made it all better.

Until she puked.

Casey saw the signs of impending doom and grabbed the cake to move it. Vicki jumped back instinctively, which distracted Derek so that he turned to look at them and thanked the gods that he saw what happened next.

"-_never_ having kids," Vicki said, just as Casey smashed into her, cake in hand.

He turned to grab the camera off the counter and saw that Edwin had it trained on them.

_Coolest. Little. Brother. Ever_, he thought.

Edwin caught the whole explosion.

Vicki yelled at Casey like she'd done it on purpose.

_Please, chick_, Derek thought. _If she'd done that on purpose, you'd be in the ER getting the plate removed from your right nostril._

"I am so sick of your whiny little voice," Casey started. "And that look on your face like you smell something..."

_So I'm not the only one who sees that_, Derek thought.

"And your delusional belief that the world revolves around you and know what? I am sick of your scrawny, scrawny ASS!" Casey yelled. "You walked into _my_ house, and the first thing you did was boss me around, and what did I do? I let you. I got you herbal freakin tea. Because I wanted to keep you happy. And everyone knows a happy Vicki is a _quiet_ Vicki."

No rocket scientist, Vicki took that opportunity to say: "Victoria!"

"I don't _care_!" Casey yelled. "I am so sick of you! I'm tired of being the Vicki wrangler. I am _done_!"

Fifteen years of pent up frustration, some of it probably caused by Derek himself in the last couple of months, got unloaded on cousin Vicki, who stomped off.

All Derek could see were a whole bunch of huge, staring eyes. Lizzie, Edwin, and Casey herself had the same stupid, shocked expressions on their faces. Derek didn't even want to know what his face was doing.

Edwin seemed to have forgotten that the camera was in his hand and still on.

_Say something_, Derek told himself.

"What the hell took you so long?" Derek said.

"Shut up, Derek," Casey said. She shoved past him and went upstairs too. He wondered if the two of them would have to be separated before the neighbors called the cops.

Marti tugged on the hem of his t-shirt.

"Can I have another sandwich?" she asked.

Derek looked pointedly at the little puddle of puke she's so recently produced, causing her to look, too. She didn't ask again.

"Ed?" Derek asked. "We should watch that back. Like now."

Lizzie whacked him on the arm.

"What?" Derek asked. "Admit it, that was cool."

"What are we supposed to do now, you idiot?" Lizzie asked. "We have no food, no cake, puke _everywhere_ and two angry drama queens upstairs. One of them in _my room_!"

"And a partridge in a pear tree," Edwin sang.

"It's not funny!" Lizzie said, clearly laughing a little.

"Not funny at all," Derek said. "Whatever you do don't laugh."

"Stop it!" Lizzie said holding back the giggles. "We're about to be in so much trouble."

Derek shrugged.

"We gotta do something," Lizzie said.

"Define 'we,'" Derek said.

"You have to help," Lizzie said.

"Do I?" Derek asked. It's not like he wasn't planning on trying to help; he just didn't want to give in so easily. Girls Lizzie's age needed a challenge or they'd think they could just boss their brothers around any old time.

"You do wanna finish your movie don't you?" Lizzie asked. "No reception, no movie."

That was just the out that he needed. He rolled his eyes and went on puke detail. Edwin grabbed a cardboard box and started scooping up the cake.

After Marti was properly cleaned up and re-purpled, Derek texted his Dad and got nowhere. Then he tried his friend Nicky, who owed him a favor and put in an order from Nicky's father's restaurant. He was putting up random strings of Christmas lights when Casey finally came downstairs.

"So nice of you to join us," Derek said.

"Or I could go back upstairs," Casey said. She turned around, totally bluffing, but Derek took no chances.

"Casey," he said. She turned back around.

"It's almost over," he said.

"We haven't even gotten to the church yet," Casey said. "How can you say it's almost over?"

_First damn thing that popped into my mind_, Derek thought.

"I'm an optimist," Derek said.

"And I'm Alanis Morrisette," Casey said.

"We're almost ready anyway," Derek said. "Why don't you go change and deal with Vicki real quick, and I can change and we can go to the stupid wedding?"

"Nope," Casey said. "Dealing with Vicki is not part of the deal. I'll clean up puke till the cows come home, but I'm done with _that_ unpleasantness."

"Caseeey," he said. "Come on."

"Why don't you deal with her?" Casey asked.

"Good one," Derek said. "'Why don't I deal with her?' Maybe because she doesn't know me from a hole in the wall, not to mention the fact that she thinks I'm too stupid to string two sentences together.."

He noticed that she didn't dispute Vicki's impression of him.

"My point is," Derek continued, "There's no reason for her to listen to a word _I_ say to her. I'm nobody. You, however, are her _family_."

"Wasn't _my_ idea," Casey said.

Derek rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Can you just go talk to her?" He gave her his best puppy face.

"That only works when Lizzie does it," Casey said.

"How bout this?" Derek asked. "As your director, I direct you to go upstairs and talk to your cousin, get her down here, huh?"

"What's my motivation?" Casey asked.

"I let you live," Derek said.

Casey laughed at him.

"Casey," he said. "This is fast becoming the longest day of my freakin' life. If you want motivation, I'll give you a mental picture. Think about what I might be like if I get cranky. Now multiply it by ten."

She rolled her eyes. Why did it seem like he could only ever intimidate Edwin?

"You talk a big game, but you know you can't stay away from her," Derek said. "You know it. You have to do the right thing. You have some alien nice person DNA that won't leave you alone until you go talk to her."

Casey started to chew on her bottom lip. He expected her to start shifting her weight from one foot to the other next, like she had to go to the bathroom.

"What do you say, Ca—"

She put her hand over his mouth.

"Don't '_Casey_' me," she said.

"Casey, Casey, Casey?" Derek said, pulling her hand away.

"God!" she said, turning and going upstairs. Derek collapsed onto the couch. He was so lucky that that had worked because he was out of ideas.

Part Five: Lizzie.

The five of them left Derek in the house to wait for the caterers and somehow crammed into a taxi and made it to the church. It was one of the larger, minivan cabs, but Lizzie kept hearing circus music in her head all the same. They looked normal, all of them. She bet no one could tell exactly how much had gone wrong that day.

Except that everyone except Marti was prone to these weird giggle fits. Casey and Lizzie especially couldn't keep it together during the hymns. Aunt Fiona had hired a singer who'd sounded a bit like Edith Bunker meets Olive Oyl.

Lizzie did notice that Aunt Fiona wasn't crying anymore and they'd managed to fix her hair and makeup.

_I wonder if she still thinks it's a mistake to marry Harry,_ Lizzie thought. _He doesn't seem so bad. A little dorky maybe. But okay._

She looked around the room, trying to find something else besides that singer to focus on. Edwin stood off to the side with the camera, looking decently calm for the moment, but he could start shaking that camera at any minute. She hoped it had a steadicam option.

Lizzie really wanted to hug him. Heck, she wanted to hug everyone. Even Vicki. She was just so relieved to be there in the stuffy church, even though she always worried about sitting when she was supposed to kneel and saying the wrong thing back to the priest. Casey took her hand and swung it back and forth a little, smiling at her when she looked up.

Mom got squeezy after the ceremony; she was so relieved.

"I love weddings, don't you?" Mom said. Casey groaned. Mom put an arm around Casey.

Edwin put his arm around Lizzie and passed her a little baggy of birdseed with the other hand. They were supposed to throw it at Fiona and Harry, but both of them quickly spotted some pigeons hanging out by some benches. Marti joined them.

Lizzie and Edwin pretended not to notice George taking several still shots with the digital camera. They did a pretty good job of it, too, until Marti noticed him standing there with the camera and started to pose. Then the illusion was broken and he got a few posed shots and at least a couple with the three of them pulling faces.

"What are you guys doing all the way over here?" Casey asked.

George snapped her picture.

"George!" Casey yelped, covering her eyes.

"Sorry, Case," he said. "Stupid thing's supposed to shut the flash off automatically."

"Thought you taught him how to use the camera," Lizzie said.

"I tried," Edwin said. "But it's okay, I can probably fix these pictures on the computer later."

"I heard that," George said trying to look insulted. But he couldn't deny how bad he was with things like cameras and computers.

"So?" George asked. "You guys ready to go, yet? We need to get home before Derek eats all the food."

"This is true," Edwin said.

"Do you guys know what he ended up ordering?" George asked.

"Not a clue," Casey said.


	12. Chapter 12

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein, including _Young Frankenstein_. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twelve.

Part One: Derek

The caterers came and went, leaving a bill for Derek to hand off later. He ran upstairs to take the world's fastest shower. He'd barely gotten dressed before the light in the hallway started flashing, telling him he needed to get the door.

_Crap_, he thought, buttoning his pants and trying to wiggle into a t-shirt even as he ran downstairs to let whoever it was into the house. He plastered the biggest cheesiest No-I-didn't-just-get-out-of-the-shower smile on his face as he opened the door expecting to find early wedding guests.

He opened the door, saw Sam, and let out the breath he'd been holding.

Sam started laughing at him right off the bat.

"Shut up," Derek said.

"This is great," Sam said, still giggling. "I missed the wedding, but I'm right on time for the wet t-shirt contest!"

"Did I not just say shut up?" Derek asked.

"Yeah, but no one ever listens to you," Sam said. "So what kind of food did you get?"

"Greek stuff," Derek said. "Nick's Dad's place."

"Awesome," Sam said. "What's everybody else gonna eat?"

Derek groaned and signed: "Don't even joke. I wanted to climb into one of those trays over there." He pointed to the table behind him, which was laden with tin foil trays on chafing dishes.

"I still might if people don't get their asses over here fast," Derek signed.

They both looked longingly at the food until Sam thought of a distraction.

"Before people get here," Sam signed. "I gotta know: was Casey's family as bad as she said it was?"

"Yes," Derek signed. "Her cousin's hot, though."

"Okay," Sam said.

"But evil," Derek signed.

"But hot," Sam signed. His eyebrow went up.

"You like Casey's cousin," Sam sang.

Derek took his dress shirt off the banister and put it on.

"I said she was hot," Derek said. "I did not say I liked her."

"Oh, yeah, I believe you," Sam said, nodding his head like he didn't believe word one.

"You will," Derek said. He signed: "Give her ten minutes. You'll see."

"How's Casey holding up?" Sam asked.

Derek shrugged.

Sam shrugged. And gave Derek The Look until he elaborated.

"Okay, so Casey ran around like an idiot to keep Cousin Vicki happy, right?" Derek began.

"Yeah."

"And Vicki kept bugging her, and telling me and Ed stories about Casey blowing chunks at recitals and swallowing bugs on rollercoasters..."

Sam nodded. "Go on," he signed.

He told Sam about the Plastic Berry Incident and how it led to the Cake Incident.

"Then Casey went off on Vicki," Derek said. "Full-on Casey scorned. It was awesome."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Derek," he said.

"Yeah, you think I'm making fun of her, but I mean it," Derek said. "I waited all day for her to let Vicki have it. She was _so_ asking for it."

"Are you feeling okay?" Sam said. "You just—"

"I just said Casey was awesome, I know," Derek said. "I'm as surprised as you are. It'll pass."

He didn't tell Sam about Casey defending him. He hadn't much cared what Vicki thought of him, hadn't really needed defending, but Casey defended him without batting an eyelash, even though she didn't particularly like him. It was all too confusing to even begin to talk about.

"It'll be our secret," Sam said. He turned around suddenly.

The front door opened and the 'rents came in, followed by Ed, Lizzie, Casey and Marti.

Sam waved at the approaching family members and Casey, seeing him, practically knocked Edwin down and grabbed Sam like she hadn't seen him in a year.

"Don't worry, Casey," Edwin said from the floor. "_I'm_ okay."

Sam, Casey's head buried in his chest, leaned over as far as he could to offer Edwin a hand up.

"Thanks, _Sam_," Edwin said. Casey waved him away.

They'd left the door open, so people started coming in right away. A lot of people, almost all of whom he didn't know. He liked social gatherings, but he really wasn't a fan of social gatherings full of people he didn't know. They asked too many questions.

"How's the food?" His dad asked before he could get away.

"I dunno yet," Derek said.

Dad put a hand up to Derek's forehead. "You feeling okay, son?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Derek said. "It was all I could do to stay away. Thought Nora would have my head."

Dad nodded toward the table beckoning Derek to follow him. Somebody had to start on the food. It may as well be us, Derek thought.

Dad paused in lifting the aluminum lids off of the trays. "What is it?"

"They're labeled," Derek said. There was no way he was attempting pronunciation of any of the dishes the caterers brought over. _Spanakopita,_ one tray read. _Moussaka_, read another. _Pastitsio_. _Soutzoukakia Smymeika_. All kinds of other stuff. Truth be told, he didn't know what most of it was. But it all smelled really good.

Dad made an announcement to remind people that there was food and not to be shy.

"Like my father always says: '_Here_ you gotta eat, not home!'" Dad said. "So I suggest that you nice folk dig in before we eat it all."

He didn't have to tell anyone twice.

Before Derek got to eat, he was attacked, first by Nora, then Fiona. He thought, not for the first time, that it was just his luck that his father married into a family of huggers. He put his plate down on the table just in time and put up his usual amount of struggle.

"Did you think you would get away?" Nora said, once she pulled back from the hug a little.

"I fought the good fight," Derek said.

"My turn," Fiona said. "I'm sorry you missed the wedding."

_I'm not_, Derek thought. He really wasn't much for ceremony, especially the gooier stuff. It gave him the shudders. His Dad had really had the right idea, going to City Hall the way he did.

"But you guys really pulled something off here, huh?" Fiona said.

"Um," Derek said, looking around at their admittedly iffy decorations and remembered the sight of Vicki, covered in cake frosting. He snorted.

"Don't be modest," Fiona said.

"Modest?" Derek blinked in surprise, tried not to laugh. He looked over at Nora, who was visibly biting the inside of her cheek. Then, the both of them lost it.

He laughed too hard to know what anyone might have said for a minute or so, and when he looked up, all he saw was Fiona's puzzled face, and that set him off again.

"Anyone wanna explain why this is funny?" Fiona asked.

"More ironic than funny," Nora said.

"Hey," Derek said. "You trying to say that I'm not modest?"

Fiona finally got it. She pinched his cheek and excused herself to mingle.

"Yeah," Nora said, when Fiona was out of earshot. "She has no sense of humor. _Nothing_ like me." Nora winked. Derek grinned. "When we were little, I was convinced that my parents found her on the doorstep. You know. Then, _many years later_, they had me."

"Oh yeah," Derek said. "Obviously."

"You learn fast," she said.

"I try," Derek said. Nora tried to stick a hand into his hair, but he dodged her. She smiled and patted his shoulder.

"You should probably go eat before it's gone," Nora said.

"Yeah, I really should," Derek said.

While Derek stood on the food line, he happened to see Sam and Casey across the room. As the boyfriend, Sam was getting the third degree from one or another of Casey's relatives. Being Sam, he looked like he wanted to hide in between the sofa cushions. He kept giving that nervous, toothgrinding smile of his and Casey kept rubbing his arm because she saw it, too.

It was going to be fun to tease him about it later.

Sam was doing okay as far as Derek could see. He always did. Old ladies especially loved Sam. He didn't have anything to worry about. But really, what kind of friend would Derek be if he didn't play on the boy's insecurities a little?

He would've gone over to bug Sam right then if he didn't think that people would start asking _him_ questions next. He'd get in trouble if he had to answer questions because it was fast becoming obvious that sense of humor was carried on a recessive gene in Nora's family.

He started to scope out safe places to eat his pile o' food and people-watch in peace. He could just go to his room and shut the door, but that would put a damper on the people-watching, and he just could not sit alone and not know what was going on. What if Casey ended up dumping the tray of _moussaka_ on Vicki and he missed it? He'd never forgive himself.

After a minute of looking aimlessly around for an empty corner when there was none, inspiration hit. He sat next to Marti on the piano bench. She'd likely be the center of attention to anyone passing by. Nobody would be likely to bother him when Smarti was around. It would be like hiding in plain sight.

For a while, it actually worked. He worked his way through all of his food and some of Marti's (he really shouldn't let her put her vegetables on his plate, shouldn't have let her see that he really _would_ eat anything, but what's done is done).

Until Nora came by with a couple of people on their way to the kitchen. One of them spotted him and wanted to be introduced to him and Smarti. Nora tried to be nonchalant about it, but she'd obviously been waiting to do something like this all day.

Watching her formally introduce her cousin Dave and his wife Jessica, Derek was reminded of _Young Frankenstein._

"_Inga, may I present Igor?"_ Derek thought, and held back a giggle. It was just so cute to see how proud of herself she was that she could fingerspell their names without difficulty.

But it also meant that he was stuck making small talk for a while.

"That was such a great ceremony," Jessica said, once Nora left them.

"Um," Derek said. "Yeah, so I'm told. I didn't actually _go _to the wedding."

"Why?"

"Well," Derek began. "It's kind of a sticky subject, but since I guess we're technically family—it's a violation of my probation to go beyond a hundred feet of the front door." He shuddered.

"Oh," Dave said.

"Yeah," Jessica said. Her eyes flicked to the floor for a second. She might have been looking for one of those ankle bracelets.

"Nice meeting you," Derek said, as they walked away. This could go one of two ways: the couple could either walk calmly out of sight before laughing, or they could be looking for Nora to find out if he really was under house arrest.

He so clearly shouldn't have done that, but he hadn't been able to help himself.

_Who am I kidding_, Derek thought. _That rocked._

He told another of Nora's people that holy water made him nervous. Before long, he noticed more and more wedding guests surreptitiously peeking at his ankle.

_No sense of humor_, he thought.

Later, he thought he had a moment of peace in the kitchen. People had started to give him a wide berth. But then he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"House arrest?" Vicki asked.

Derek grinned.

"You realize that people believe you," Vicki said. "Right?"

"I could only hope," Derek said.

"Good thing I like bad boys," Vicki said.

_Did she really just say that? _Derek thought.

"Casey's in there all over that Sam kid," Vicki began, while starting to straighten Derek's collar, which, incidentally, didn't need straightening. "I mean, gag me, he's, like, perfect. How much do you suppose she paid him to make out with her?"

It took a certain amount of talent to piss Derek off in so many ways at once. He thought about using five different comebacks, each nastier than the last.

"He's my best friend," Derek said, finally. _Wuss!_ He thought.

"Really?" Vicki asked, hands on his shoulders.

"Since we were kids," Derek said.

"I guess opposites attract," Vicki said.

"That's the way the ball bounces," Derek said.

"What?"

"That's the way the cookie crumbles?" Derek said. "All's well that ends well?"

"What're you talking about?"

"I thought we were seeing how many clichés we could come up with in the shortest amount of time," Derek said.

"Are you making fun of me?" Vicki asked finally taking her hands away.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Derek asked."Or do you want me to answer that?"

"Oooh," Vicki said. "Big words."

"Yeah," Derek said. "I can have Marti show you how to look them up in the dictionary later. Would you like that?"

"What is your problem?" Vicki asked.

"I'm bored," Derek said. "You. Are. Boring. Me."

"Listen, _Ass_," Vicki said. "All I'm trying to do is mark time till I can go home and forget this day ever happened."

"Ah, but there's video," Derek said.

"You talk too much," Vicki said, putting a two fingers over his mouth . "Anyone ever tell you that?"

_Somebody might actually press charges if I bite her_, he thought. He gently removed her hand.

"All the time," Derek said. He realized, after a beat, that he still had hold of her wrist. He let go.

Fighting with Casey was so much more fun that fighting with Vicki was turning out to be. She didn't present a hell of a lot of challenge.

But Casey was, as Vicki so eloquently put it, "all over that Sam kid." She was probably thinking that her day was really looking up. He really didn't begrudge either of them the good time that they were having, but somehow, the fact of their good time made him even more depressed.

He needed someone to make out with. He could've called Linda. They'd broken up; for some reason, he just couldn't hold on to a girlfriend, but she would've at least come to hang out.

Next thing he knew, Vicki's hands were tangled in his hair, more or less holding him in place while they made out. It was angry, breathless, and absolutely no good.

Part Two: Vicki

Vicki made her move even though she had a bad feeling about it. This was gonna be one of those guys. She ran into them every once in a while. Sometimes her school, Fletcher Academy, had functions with Stonehead Prep (not-so-affectionately known as Stoner Perp,). Mixers, dances, competitions often paired the bored, desperate girls with the equally bored, horny guys. Once in a while, she'd grab one and lead him to a secluded spot on one campus or the other for a little extracurricular activity.

More than once, a boy would call out Casey's name while he had his hand under _her_ shirt. She was fully expecting this to happen again with this one. It was just a feeling she had.

She'd been told all her life about how she and Casey could be twins. Their mothers used to dress them alike until both girls put their feet down.

Though she still dressed and did her hair in half-conscious imitation of Casey. She got more attention that way. And the funniest part was that Casey never seemed to notice it, nor did she notice the eyes of the Stoner Perps following her.

"Mmph," Derek said, but she didn't pull back from the kiss, kept a good grip on his head, until he was ultimately too strong for her.

"Vicki," he said. "What the hell?"

"You got anything better to do?" she said. "And it's _Victoria_."

She knew the answer would be no. That after the token amount of struggle, the pretense of morality, he'd go right back to letting her munch on his bottom lip.

"So, is this what you do?" Derek asked. "Make out with randoms you don't even like?"

"Who said I don't like you?" Vicki said.

He raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't you remember the first thing I said to you?" Vicki asked. "I said you were cute."

"Yeah," Derek said. "And the second thing out of your mouth was to ask whether I knew where I was or something."

"I did _not_ say that," Vicki said. Though in truth, it was close enough. At the reappearance of the eyebrow, she looked at her feet. "Yeah, okay, I'm sorry about that. Sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain."

He lifted her chin up. She had just enough time to wonder if he wanted to kiss again when he asked her to repeat what she'd just said.

_Oh, yeah. Lipreader,_ she thought. _Got it. And I called _him_ clueless._ She repeated what she'd said.

"Oh, yeah," Derek said. "Happens to everyone. Not me. Edwin, usually."

"Cute," she said.

"Yep," he agreed. One hell of an ego, this one had. He chuckled.

"What?" she asked.

"The face you just made," he said.

"I didn't make a face," she said.

"You totally did," he said. He imitated her, scrunching his nose up and curling his lip. It was a little hard to deny that she did that.

"Shut up," she said.

"I never shut up," Derek said.

"What if I made you?" she said. He chuckled again, but allowed himself to be kissed, this time, even seeming to get into it. She broke away long enough to hop up onto the kitchen counter, then went for him again.

Then she heard the pocket door that closed off the kitchen make the tiniest _snick_ sound as it clicked into place and she turned to see the other kid—Edwin—with the video camera.

Derek was only half a beat behind her. He turned around and immediately started to threaten Edwin's life.

"Remember what your probation officer said!" Edwin said at the bottom of the stairs before he turned to run. "No more violence!" People laughed, so Aunt Nora must have clued them in. Maybe one or two figured out that Derek wasn't a criminal mastermind on their own.

Though there were still a few...her Aunt Helena, for example, who gasped and followed the two boys up the stairs with her big, huge, disapproving eyes. She'd be the star of her book club for months depending on the way she tells this story.

Her cousin, Janine, who thought she was Dr. Phil, shook her head and launched into a psychoanalysis based on her one semester at college. She looked like she was boring the ever living out of her date. Meanwhile, her date was cute. Vicki loved college guys. She made a mental note to catch his eye later.

That stopped Derek in his tracks and shocked him into laughter. He was definitely laughing too hard to properly chase the kid. But he gave it a good try, klutzing his way up the stairs.

George, (though Vicki thought he was officially Uncle George, it would take a while to call him that) stood next to a bookcase, his face getting redder by the second. For a second,Vicki thought that there was going to be a meltdown, but then she noticed his shoulders shaking even though he was trying really hard to look angry. Same with Aunt Nora, though she was a little better at it, the only sign that she wasn't murderous being the biting of her lip.

Little Marti followed the two boys upstairs. She ran into Lizzie, who was coming down, probably from the bathroom.

"What are those two idiots up to?" she asked.

"Derek's gonna kill Edwin!" Marti said, in a "Cartoons are about to start" tone of voice.

"Oh, okay," Lizzie said.

Casey, predictably, was hiding her face in shame at the idea that she knew any of them. Her boyfriend Sam was pulling a George, keeping a straight face, sort of, while his face got redder and redder.

"It's official," Casey said. "We've become _those_ relatives!"

Sam didn't answer. There was no way he could have.

"Shut up, Vicki," Casey said.

"I didn't say anything!" Vicki said.

"You were thinking stuff!" Casey said.

"Well," Vicki said. "Duh!"

That was how the dam broke on poor Sam's self-control. As he guffawed, Casey glared. It didn't stop him. If anything, it made it worse.

"Wow," Vicki said. "Enjoy the doghouse, honey."

He nodded, not very able to speak at that moment.

"I'm so happy that you find my family's humiliation at the hands of _your friend_, funny," Casey said.

"Your brother," Vicki reminded her.

"_Step_-brother," Casey said.

"Back to that so soon?" Vicki said. "From what you said before, I thought it was all love and cookies. Like Hallmark Hall of Fame."

"I lied," Casey said.

"But you said you _loved _having brothers," Vicki said. "What'd you say? That even Derek was okay, sometimes."

"Yeah, well _you_ said you were jealous of me for having them," Casey said. "That I was lucky."

"Oh yeah, I did, didn't I?" Vicki said.

"You _did_," Casey said. "And I pretended to believe you like you pretended to believe me. Whatever it took to get you downstairs."

"So we're both full of it," Vicki said.

"Pretty much," Casey said.

Sam had been getting himself under control, but for some reason, that gave him a little giggly aftershock. He shook his head.

"_Completely_ full of it," Sam said. He looked pointedly at Casey, who narrowed her eyes at him.

"Doghouse," Vicki sing-songed.

"By the way, Vicki?" Casey said. "You have a little something, over here." She rubbed at a spot next to her mouth, so that Vicki would do the same.

Vicki's fingers came away pink and glittery with smeared lipgloss.

Dammit, she thought. "How long were you gonna wait to tell me that?" she asked Casey.

"I dunno," Casey said. "I was hoping for a picture or two of you all sloppy, but I figured it was too light and wouldn't show up on film anyway, so what was the fun in that?"

"You're too kind," Vicki said, grabbing at a napkin on the coffee table and rubbing hard at her mouth.

"Thank you," Casey said.

"I was being sarcastic," Vicky said. "You never used to be this mean."

"I learn from the best," Casey said.

"Hey!" Vicki said.

"Not _you_," Casey said. "You're an amateur."

Part Three: Edwin.

Derek caught up with Edwin half-way up the last few steps to his attic room. Derek grabbed him and dragged him to his own room, taking the camera out of his hand and shoving him onto the bed.

"Crap," Edwin gasped. He was really gonna kill him.

"My probation officer?" Derek signed.

"It was your story," Edwin signed. "Don't blame me."

Marti slipped in behind Derek right before he closed the door. Sometimes Edwin wondered if she wasn't really part kitten, like she kept telling people.

Thankfully, Marti didn't ask what a probation officer was, because Edwin couldn't think of how they'd even begin to explain it to her.

She tugged on the back of Derek's shirt, and he startled.

"When did you get here?" He asked. Edwin didn't know if he was really startled or faking it to make Marti happy.

"A second ago," Marti signed. "Are you going to jail?"

Sometimes their baby sister came off like a forty-five year old college professor, but sometimes, like at that moment, she reminded them that she was, in fact, six. She looked up at Derek with her big eyes. Derek had his back to Edwin for a second, but Edwin saw his shoulders sag even before he groaned.

He crouched down and picked Marti up, bringing her over to the bed, when he settled her on his lap.

"No, Smarti," he said. "Nobody's going to jail, okay?"

"You sure?" she asked. She had a pretty suspicious nature because she sensed that nobody ever told her anything. That was Edwin's theory anyway.

"I'm sure," Derek said.

Edwin got up and grabbed the computer chair. He positioned himself in front of both of them.

"Smarti," Edwin said. "Listen."

She looked him in the eye.

"We were kidding around," Edwin said.

"But this old lady said Smerek was a criminal," Marti said. "A delincoln."

"Delinquent," Edwin said.

"That too," Marti said. "Why did she say that then?"

"You know how sometimes you make a joke and people don't get it?" Edwin signed.

"You mean like when _you_ tell a joke?" Marti signed. Even she knew she was at sort of an awkward lipreading angle, but didn't want to move.

Derek snickered.

"I'll have you know I'm the king of funny," Edwin signed.

"Looks aren't everything, Ed," Derek said. His hands were otherwise occupied making sure Marti didn't slide off of his lap.

Edwin rolled his eyes and got back to business. "Smarti," he signed. "Derek told a joke and one old lady didn't know he was joking. Nora told her he was kidding later."

"Everyone's saying it," Marti said.

"The old lady spread it around," Edwin signed. "Derek should have told her he was kidding back when he made the joke." He shot a look at Derek, who gave it right back to him.

"Smarti," Derek said. "Look up here. I tease you once in a while, but do I ever lie to you?"

She shook her head.

"So do you trust me?" Derek said.

"Uh-huh," she said, nodding.

"Okay then," Derek said. "I'm sorry I made you worry, Smarti."

She turned and grabbed him around the neck.

There was a knock at the door. Edwin got up to get it.

"What are you guys up to in here?" Lizzie asked. "And why didn't you invite me?"

"Sorry," Edwin said. "It wasn't exactly planned."

"Why did you knock at the door?" Derek asked. "What if I was alone in here?"

"I knew you weren't," Lizzie said, shrugging. "Anyway, Mom sent me up here because people are finally starting to leave and she says we all gotta say goodbye or something."

"Why?" Derek asked.

Lizzie shrugged. "Maybe she thinks you'll be the one to scare everyone off so they won't linger."

People in Norway might have heard Derek laughing at that. At the look of shock on Lizzie's face, he clapped a hand over his mouth and looked around shiftily like "That didn't happen."

"Oops," Derek said.

"Yep," Lizzie said. "Oops. Now come on downstairs before Mom sends Casey up here next."

She knew what button to push to get Derek moving. He hoisted Marti up and headed out.

Edwin and Lizzie let the two of them get a safe distance away before they started talking. They didn't need Marti to overhear.

"Casey's pissed," Lizzie said.

"Does she know about Vicki and Derek?" Edwin said.

"What about Vicki and Derek?" Lizzie asked, wide-eyed.

"Hang on," Edwin said, beckoning her back into Derek's room. He took the mini cassette out of the camera and put it in his pocket. "I'll show you later. But I caught them making out."

"No way!" Lizzie said. "With _Vicki_? _Icky Vicki_?"

"Mhmm," Edwin said. "Disturbed much?"

"Much!" Lizzie said.

"She does look _a lot _like Casey though," Edwin said.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Just do me a favor and don't say that around Casey, okay?"

"I figured," Edwin said. "No worries. I have officially not noticed it."

"Good," Lizzie said.

Part Four: Lizzie.

Aunt Fiona and Harry left first, and when Vicki didn't leave with them, Lizzie had a moment of panic, thinking that her Mom would have Vicki stay the rest of the weekend. But then someone said something about taking Vicki with them and Lizzie was suddenly able to breathe again.

When it was time for Vicki herself to go, she seemed a little warmer toward everyone, but that might have been wishful thinking on Lizzie's part. She even hugged a very confused-looking Casey. _Maybe she just did it to see the look on Casey's face,_ Lizzie thought. But really, she was just relieved that there was no more yelling or dumping of food.

"Hey," Vicki said, tapping Derek. "Public Enemy Number One. Do I get a hug?"

"What's in it for me?" Derek asked, hugging her awkwardly. Lizzie thought she saw the corners of Casey's mouth flick downward, but when she saw Lizzie looking, she smiled quickly.

Most of the guests, as they were leaving, seemed to make some crack about Derek's supposed criminal record, hopefully ensuring that he would watch who he messed with in the future.

_Yeah, that'll happen_, Lizzie thought.

When the last guests left, Mom and George sent Lizzie and Edwin upstairs to put Marti to bed, then gave them the rest of the night off, since it was a little late for them. Then Casey and Derek were stuck helping the 'rents with the cleanup.

"Weddings," Edwin said, after they'd left Marti in her room to pretend to go to sleep.

"Yep," Lizzie said.

"Think you'll ever get married?"

"Dunno, but Mom and George had the right idea going to City Hall," Lizzie said. "That and letting someone else do their reception."

"Yeah," Edwin said. "Ohhhh yeah."


	13. Chapter 13

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirteen

Part One: Casey.

"Okay," Sam said. "What's going on?"

"You make it sound like somethings _always_ going on, Sam," Casey said. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

His eyes went wide. He took a step back toward the lockers on the other side of the hall. He looked like he could've made good use of a chair and a whip, actually. "Nothing!" he said. "I just thought you looked a little down?"

"I'm not down," Casey lied._ Not much anyway_, she thought. _It's not really something I can talk about without coming off crazy and since you already so clearly think I'm crazy, it's best not to talk about it._

"Come on," Sam sing-songed.

_Who's he think he's kidding?_ Casey thought. _He doesn't wanna know. And I don't wanna discuss it. I don't wanna think about it. _

"It's Monday and it's all rainy and chilly," Casey began. "And I walked like fifty feet out of the ladies' room today without someone telling me that I had toilet paper on my shoe."

"Yeah," Sam said, unable to conceal his smile. "I heard about that."

Casey glared.

"I mean," Sam said. "I'm sorry?"

"You didn't do it," Casey said. "But I'm kinda having a crappy day."

"Poor Casey," he sing-songed. "It's pizza day, though. So maybe things'll pick up?" He came up behind her and started to knead her shoulders. She appreciated the gesture, but it was more tickly than anything else. Unless that was what he'd had in mind all along.

The fact that he went for her ribs next confirmed it.

"Quit it!" Casey squealed.

"Make me," Sam said.

"Should we all leave you two alone?" Derek asked as he walked by.

"I wish you would," Casey said.

"Get a room," Derek signed.

"Ass," Casey muttered, teeth clenched. Derek smiled.

"Am I an ass, Sam?" Derek said.

_How does he do that?_ Casey wondered.

"You want an answer to that, D.?" Sam asked.

Derek snickered. "Guess not," he said. Then he winked. "Later."

"How'd he even do that?" Casey asked the second Derek's back was turned.

"He guessed," Sam said. "And you really need to work on your poker face. You totally gave it away."

"Ugh," Casey said.

"Meanwhile," Sam said. "Pizza?"

"Cafeteria pizza's so awful," Casey said.

"Pizza's pizza," Sam said. "It's just the frozen kind. Much better than their meatballs anyway."

The meatballs bounced. Derek had been helpful enough to point that out a couple weeks back, narrowly missing Casey's pantleg as she passed. She didn't think he'd been trying to get her, but he would've considered it an added bonus if he had.

But she needed to stop thinking about him. And talking about him. And talking _to_ him if she could avoid it. It was starting to seem that everyone she knew greeted her with "So what did Derek do now?" That was Casey's new official greeting. In some cultures, people greeted you with charming things like "Have you eaten yet?" But Casey got "What'd he do now?" That told her something.

So there would be a new personal rule: No Derek talk. People could bring him up in conversation, but she would be noncommittal. He existed, but she didn't have to acknowledge him.

Okay. Maybe that was a little harsh. But she needed to stop making such a big deal about what a colossal cousin-kissing pain in the ass he could be.

In the cafeteria, Emily managed to save them two seats, mainly because they'd gotten there early. It would fill up like a sardine can in the space of the next twenty minutes or so. Of course, the jock tables would be generally off limits to the mere high school mortals, but everything else would be packed.

"So?" Casey asked Emily. "How was Grandma's?"

"It was okay," Emily said. "It was Grandma's. She has a new boyfriend and they're taking cooking classes together."

"Aw," Casey said.

"She made sushi," Emily said. "You should've seen the faces Dimi made. It was hysterical."

"How was the sushi though?" Sam asked.

"Tasted pretty good," Emily said. "But my Grandma couldn't seem to get the rice to hold together so it all kept falling apart. After a while we all gave up on the chopsticks. But on the upside, my Dad has just learned about wasabi for the first time."

"Oh God," Casey said, pretty sure she knew where this was going.

"Yikes," Sam said.

"Yikes is right," Emily said. "He took a little chunk of it and tasted it before anyone could stop him."

Sam put his hand over his nose. His eyes practically watered in sympathy.

Casey couldn't help laughing. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," Emily said. "It was pretty funny. I think my Mom is still cracking up over it every few minutes."

"Did Dimi know to stay away from it?" Casey asked.

"Dimi wouldn't touch any of it with a ten-foot pole," Emily said. "He ate PB&J."

"Yeah, Marti's pretty much the same way," Casey said.

"That reminds me," Emily asked. "How'd the wedding go? Was your cousin still as evil as you remembered?"

"Pretty much," Casey said. She was dying to elaborate, but to do so would be to break her new rule.

"Oookay," Emily said. "Does that mean there was trouble?"

"A little," Casey said. "There might have been an accident with the cake...and her dress."

Emily snorted, perking up the ears of some nearby nerds who would no doubt be listening now. "An accident with your cousin's dress and some cake, huh? What kind of accident?"

"It was a total accident," Casey maintained. "Not that I wasn't kinda glad that it happened."

"Uh-huh," Emily said.

"Being clumsy works for me sometimes, I guess," Casey said.

"Beat around the bush, why don'tcha," Sam said.

"Don't keep me in the dark, Case," Emily said. "Unless you can fill me in, Sam?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him. Casey didn't have to look up to know that the redheaded kid and his buddy with the pan flute were leaning in to hear the rest. She could feel their eyes on her.

Casey held up a finger to keep Sam quiet.

"Or I could just ask Derek later," Emily said.

"I was moving the cake and not looking where I was going," Casey began. "She yelled at me and I yelled back and it was chaos."

"I heard it was great," Sam said. "In fact, I think I heard the word 'awesome' connected to the incident."

"Who the hell said that?" Casey said.

"Do you need to ask?" Sam asked.

"Ew," Casey said.

"Hellooo," Emily said. "Starving for info here."

"I didn't get there till later, but Derek said Vicki totally deserved it and that Casey should've gone off on her sooner," Sam said.

"Was that before or after he made out with her?" Casey asked.

"_What_?!" Emily asked. There was no mistaking the nerd contingent's attention now. This was getting juicy.

"_Before_, I think," Sam said.

Casey shouldn't have said that. She hadn't wanted to. Now Emily would be upset.

Emily snorted again. "So, how cute is this cousin of yours?"

"Very," Sam said. Casey poked him.

"Okay, Casey? You can't get mad at me for that," Sam said.

"Oh no?"

"No," Sam said. He seemed amused by this. "The girl looks ridiculously like you. You could be sisters. If I said she was ugly you'd _really_ be mad—"

"Hey!" Casey interrupted. "Craig, Eric, don't you guys have something _better_ to do?"

"Who?" Redhead asked.

"Aren't they gay?" Panflute asked.

Casey raised an eyebrow.

Emily laughed, high-fived Panflute guy. There was a beat because he seemed taken aback that Emily would purposely have contact with him. Then he accepted the high five.

"I can't believe you got that, Sheldon," she said.

"Yeah," he said. "Me neither. Anyway..." He took the hint and the daggers Casey was staring at him and got up, moving his chair over a few feet. Someone else had to switch with him. He looked a little guilty for having eavesdropped at least.

The other kid didn't look the least bit guilty, but turned to Sheldon and started up a new conversation. Casey squashed the feeling that she was a little too harsh, tossing her misplaced anger onto innocent dweebs the way she had.

"What the hell were we talking about?" Casey asked. Sam raised an eyebrow at her. For Sam, moving an eyebrow a few millimeters was like broad pantomime, and therefore, really easy to read.

"Yeah, okay," Casey said. "I'll apologize for that later."

Sam nodded.

"So okay," Emily said. "You caked Vicky and then Derek kissed her, even though he thinks you're awesome for yelling at her. What else?"

"Derek would never say _I_ was 'awesome,'" Casey clarified. "He probably said 'that was awesome,' the way Seth Cohen says it. He was being sarcastic."

Casey pretended not to notice Sam twirling a finger by his ear.

"Okay," Emily said. "But how'd the wedding itself go?"

"I dunno," Casey said. "There were about fifty mini-disasters _before_ the wedding, but the wedding itself went off without a hitch. Edwin took video."

"_Edwin_ did?" Emily asked. "What happened to Derek?"

"He stayed home to wait for the caterers," Casey said. She left out the part about the firing one set of caterers and needing Derek to get some others at the last minute. There was no need to volunteer information.

Sam, helpfully, told Emily all about how half of Casey's family believed that Derek was a juvenile offender and had her laughing on and off for the rest of lunch.

Part Two: Derek

Casey had a new nickname for Derek. When the 'rents weren't around, she'd taken to using variations on a theme: Boyslut, Manwhore, or sometimes plain Man Ho, that last one had needed spelling out. It was funny for about a minute.

"Casey," Derek said after a couple of days with his new terms of endearment. "You really need to get over yourself. Have that stick removed already. It'll put you in a better mood."

"What, can't take the truth?" Casey asked.

"The truth is, I don't bug you about all the time you spend tongue wrestling with my best friend," Derek said. "It's none of your business whose tongue I want to wrestle."

"I do if it's my cousin," Casey said.

"Why?" Derek asked. "I needed to ask _your_ permission? I got _hers_. Silly me, I figured that was enough."

Casey surprised him by displaying a certain amount of proficiency with ASL right then, all of it stuff he'd offered to teach her shortly after they met, but at the time, she'd refused. Because a lady didn't use such language.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen for almost a minute, completely astonished, a smile spreading across his face. Then, he gave her the slow clap, and she walked off in a huff.

"I knew it!" Derek said, following her into the living room. Edwin and Lizzie looked up from the movie they were watching.

Casey turned around. "You know nothing!" she said.

"I know you understand me when I do this," Derek signed. It had only been a couple of months since she started the class, so she couldn't be anywhere near fluent, but he'd suspected for a couple of weeks that she sometimes picked up the gist of things he said. He'd known it was just a matter of time. But she, until that moment, had been unwilling to sign in front of people. Or at least in front of _him_. She'd been the only one who wouldn't do it.

"Edwin?" Casey asked.

"Oh no you don't," Derek said. "Don't even try it."

"You're a bad liar," he signed.

She looked at him blankly, still unwilling to admit it.

_One more try_, he thought. "Full of shit," he signed.

Her eyes narrowed. _Bullseye_, he thought.

"You're just trying to distract me from the fact that you're a pig," Casey said. "And you hook up with anything in a skirt."

"Not just anything," Derek said. His eyes flicked over her outfit, pointedly.

She threw her hands up and turned away from him, heading upstairs.

He decided to give her a couple of minutes to throw things and cool off before he bothered her again.

So he bothered Edwin.

"Have you been working with her?" Derek signed.

"Not me," Edwin signed. "I help Lizzie."

Lizzie waved.

"So it's just Sam," Derek said. "Liz, how much does she know?"

"I dunno," Lizzie said.

"Would you tell me if you did?" Derek asked.

The look on her face said, "Are you kidding?"

"Thought not," Derek said.

"She won't practice in front of me either," Lizzie said. "I thought she really wouldn't sign in front of you."

"Um," Derek said. "You wanna explain the logic of that?"

"You'll make fun of her," Lizzie said.

"Make fun of her?" Derek asked.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Like you did just now."

"I wasn't making fun of her," Derek said. "Well, okay, I was, a little, but not about that! I was making fun of her because she's a pain in the ass."

"And she thinks she sucks at it," Lizzie said.

"She did a pretty good job cursing me out, just now," Derek said. "I was sorta impressed."

Edwin looked at him in shock. Lizzie grinned.

"Shit, I said that out loud, huh?" Derek asked.

They nodded.

Derek looked at them, then up at the stairs, then back at them.

"I'm gonna go see if she'll do it again," he said.

Part Three: Emily.

Over the phone, Emily could hear Casey trading barbs with Derek. This was in no way out of the ordinary, nor did it fail to be interesting.

The conversation had started out ordinarily enough. Casey wanted details about a party Emily had a lead on for that weekend.

"So, are we gonna dress up or is this a casual thing?" Casey asked. Emily always pictured Casey in white gloves and a pillbox hat when she asked questions like that.

"I guess, we can technically do jeans, but I kinda wanna wear this red dress I bought," Emily said. "I wanna be a girl."

"Okay," Casey said, a giggle in her voice. "Unless one or both of us is very much confused, I thought you_ were_ a girl?"

"Don't even pretend you don't know what I mean," Emily said. "You and I know that I'm a girl. The problem is that nobody's told any of the guys we go to school with that I am, in fact, a girl."

"Now why would you say something like that?" Casey said.

"Because it's true," Emily said. "I have no game and it's high time that I got some."

"Um," Casey said. "Got some?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Emily said.

"Who got some?" Derek asked from somewhere in the background.

"Get lost," Casey said. Then, after a pause. "'Get lost' does not mean 'sit on my bed' Derek."

"Maybe it's not a literal translation," Derek said. He sounded a little closer. "So who're you talking to?"

"It's none of your business who I'm talking to," Casey said.

"Hi, Emily," Derek said.

"Tell him I said hi back," Emily said. Not that she expected Casey to do any such thing.

"How do you know it's Emily?" Casey asked.

"Who else do you talk to besides her and Sam?" Derek asked. "And when you talk to Sam you close the door, so it must be Emily."

"Should I call you back?" Emily asked.

"No!" Casey said. "I'll just deal with this little...interruption."

"Aw, I have a new nickname," Derek said.

Emily giggled. "Just ask him what he wants, Case."

"What do you want?" Casey asked.

"Want?" Derek asked. "Good question. What do I want?"

"To be bludgeoned to death with a cordless phone?" Casey asked.

There was the sound of a phone smacking hottie next door and some muffled laughter. Then some not so muffled laughter.

"Out!" Casey kept saying, laughing a little herself.

Emily really couldn't help but think that she shouldn't be overhearing this. She took the opportunity to hang up. She wondered how long it would take Casey to notice.

Part Three: Casey.

"Well if you wanted a little privacy," Derek said. "All you had to do was—"

"OUT!" Casey yelled. Derek scampered off, still laughing.

"Still there, Em?" Casey asked. "Em?"

Casey growled in frustration, following Derek into his room and whacking him upside the head.

"What the hell?" Derek asked.

"Emily hung up," Casey said.

"And you're hitting me because..."

"It's your fault, pig!"

"Please," Derek said. "She hung up on your ass because you're boring. How is that my fault?"

"She hung up because she couldn't get a word in edgewise," Casey said. "And that was your fault, since you just wouldn't shut up."

"Yeah, you're such a good listener," Derek said.

"Actually, I am," Casey said.

"So what was she talking about?" Derek asked.

"She was talking about..." Casey was so flustered that she'd forgotten what the conversation had been about.

"What?" Derek signed.

"A party!" Casey said, pointing at Derek. "We're going to a party. We didn't get much beyond that when you decided to annoy us with your presence. Why did you do that, anyway?"

"Do I need a reason?" Derek said.

"Oh, okay, so you just alienated my best friend for absolutely no reason?" Casey asked.

Derek shrugged.

"Seriously," Casey said. "Are you out to ruin my life? Is that just on your to-do list for today?"

"Dramatic much?" Derek said. "I love that. I'm out to ruin your life."

"Then what is it, Derek?" Casey asked. "Why would you bug me so constantly, and why would you barge into my room while I'm talking to someone else?"

"Nothing good on TV," Derek said.

"De-_rek_!" Casey said. "I can't believe—"

He held a hand up to halt her tirade for a second. For the life of her, Casey could not figure out how he had the power to shut her up that easily.

"Maybe I just wanted to see if you'd curse me out again," Derek said.

"Is that what you want?" Casey said.

"Yeah," Derek said.

"Is that all?" Casey said, smiling. "Ohhh."

She turned on her heel and headed back to her room. He blocked the door before she could close it.

"Cute," Derek said. "Real cute."

"Don't you have homework or something?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Derek said, shrugging. "Need something to do on the bus."

"That was a hint, Derek," Casey said.

"What was a hint?" Derek asked.

"Just get lost," Casey said.

"Not till I get what I want," Derek said.

"Get used to disappointment," Casey said.

"I can wait as long as you can," Derek said. "I'm a patient man."

Casey laughed at him. "You? Patient? And a _man_?"

As she laughed, her grip on the door loosened and he was able to slide in and move toward the bed. He made himself comfortable.

"Dammit," she said. "I liked that bedspread. I'm gonna hate having to burn it."

Derek picked the book Casey'd been reading up off of the nightstand. Her bookmark fell out immediately, but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was when he read the title.

"_Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister_," Derek read. Casey groaned. It was so obvious what he'd say next.

"So you got your biography published already?" Derek asked. "Who knew?"

"You're in my room, messing up my bed and making pathetically unimaginative jokes," Casey said. "Wouldn't it be more fun to chase Edwin out of your chair and snatch the remote out of his little hand?"

"All in good time," Derek said.

She glared at him; he grinned back.

"You sign something," Derek signed. "I go away."

"Please, like I'm gonna give you more to use against me," Casey said.

"Why would I use it against you?" Derek asked.

"Because you're you," Casey said. "I've given up on figuring you out."

"Yeah," Derek said. "Likewise. But I'm not giving up on this. Why are you even taking the class if you're not gonna use it?"

"I need to get better at it before I even think about actually using it," Casey said.

"You're kidding, right?" Derek asked, sitting up.

She said nothing.

"Okay, so I figure Sam's helping you out, right? Right." Derek said. "You curse just like he does."

He demonstrated.

"And he's probably a really good teacher, right?" Derek asked. "But do you think that's gonna be enough? This is one of those things you can't get from a book, Princess."

That almost did it, but she stopped herself from suggesting that he do something that required him to be a contortionist. She put her hands in her pockets.

"Just do it," Derek said. "I'm not gonna make fun of you."

She cocked her head a little to the right.

"For _that_," Derek said. "Do I make fun of your Mom? Or Lizzie? Or my Dad when he mixes words up?"

"He doesn't mix words up that often," Casey said.

"But you notice that he does mix them up," Derek said.

"Maybe," Casey said. "And you wouldn't dare make fun of Lizzie."

Derek didn't deny it. He laughed. "She'd kick my ass."

It was moments like this that she could almost tolerate him. But then she had to admit to herself that "tolerate" was the wrong word. She'd use the word "tolerate" if she was talking to him, but if she were being honest, the accurate word was "like." He was likeable. Everyone else seemed to like him, and it pissed her off because it really didn't look like he'd had a single moment of insecurity. She didn't want him to be some timid, afraid of his own shadow waif or anything, but did he have to be so in charge at every moment?

Thinking of that annoyed her again.

"I don't have all day," Derek signed.

_Okay_, she thought. _If that's what you really want._

"Go do your homework," she signed. "Dickhead."

Derek gasped, hopping off of her bed, finally. "Pottymouth!" he said. "You said '_homework_!'"

Casey rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

"I'm telling," Derek said.

"Now get lost, so I can call Emily back," Casey said.

"Since you asked so nicely," Derek said, backing away, in case she had anything else to say.

"And she says 'hi' by the way," Casey said.

He nodded and turned around, heading toward his room.


	14. Chapter 14

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended. Apologies to Daddy Yankee, John Steinbeck and Charles Addams...in no particular order

Chapter Fourteen

Part One: Derek.

There was a party and Derek was not going to it. He _wasn't _grounded, though everyone seemed to think that he was. He just wasn't in the mood, especially since Casey was going. With Sam. In a little dress. Casey was in the little dress, not Sam. If Sam were in the dress, Derek might have to come and take pictures.

His problem had to do with his weakness for Casey's dancing. It was hard enough for him to follow conversations with multiple people in low lighting, the feeling of the constant bass thumping annoying the hell out of him while he tried to concentrate on whoever was talking to him. He didn't need the added stress of not gawking at his stepsister in front of his best friend. This was something he'd have to deal with eventually, but if there was one thing Derek was good at, it was procrastinating.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked for about the fifth time.

"Positive," Derek said. "Sit down. She'll probably be a while. You know...putting on her face. The spackle needs to dry before she can come downstairs."

Sam was standing politely by the door and looking up at him from the recliner was giving Derek a crick in his neck.

"Could that joke be any older?" Sam said.

"I'm sure it could be a little older," Derek said. "It's definitely not as old as some of my Dad's A material."

The light above the door flashed. Sam answered it before Derek could get up. And in walked Emily in some little dress of her own. Little painted on red dress.

_What is the matter with me?_ Derek wondered. _Cute girl. Tiny dress. Legs. And she likes me. What's stopping me from going for it? Life would be so much easier if I did._

Sam gave Emily a hug and complimented her on her dress. His back was to Derek so he didn't know exactly what he said, but Emily covered her face and giggled.

Sam smacked Derek on the shoulder. "Get up dumbass," Sam signed. "Lady in the room."

"Oh yeah," Derek said. He got up from the recliner and came over to her.

_Say something about the dress,_ Derek thought. _Something nice. But don't mention her ass._

"You look..." Derek began. "Nice."

Emily lit right up. "You think?" she asked as she tried to flatten wrinkles that weren't there.

"Oh yeah," Derek said. "Some lucky dude's not gonna know what hit him."

Her smile flickered a little, so that must've been the wrong answer. Sometimes he really did need to consider keeping his mouth shut. But he was a realistic guy, one who knew that that was unlikely to happen.

"Stop messing with that," Derek said, indicating her hemline. "You're perfect."

She rolled her eyes at him and signed "Bullshit, but thanks." He just couldn't win.

"So how come you're not coming?" Emily asked.

"Thought I'd spend the night with my buddy Kevin Smith?" Derek said, indicating the boxes on the coffee table. "Maybe we can get Wes Craven to show."

"So you're grounded?" Emily asked.

"No, I'm not grounded," Derek said. "I love how everyone jumps right to that conclusion."

"Not everyone," Sam said. "Just the people who know you."

Right then, Emily and Sam looked up to the top of the stairs and laughed. Which meant Casey said something wiseass. It was better that Derek not know what she said lest he say something back and somehow end up grounded for real.

Casey came breezing down the stairs and past him, a slight whiff of her special occasion perfume, the one no one else in the world seemed to wear, puffing toward Derek as Casey herself bypassed him completely, hopping first into Sam's arms and then to Emily so that they could do the bouncy girl dance that they always did.

She followed the KISS rule, wearing a tight black thing with a high neck and a short skirt.

Derek wracked his brain. He needed to say something, because if he stood there dumbfounded, it just wouldn't be him.

"Lily Munster have a yard sale?" Derek asked.

"Nope," Casey said. "Morticia Addams."

She turned to Sam. "Are you ready to go, _Mon Amour_?"

Sam was quick. "'Tish, that's _French_!" he said, grabbing her and dipping her quickly.

Emily grinned at them and turned to Derek, a "how cute are they" look on her face. Derek rolled his eyes.

"So what do you say we leave Pugsley alone with his DVDs?" Casey said. She finger-spelled the name to make sure he got the insult.

_Pugsley?_ Derek thought. _I don't even rate Fester? Guess I should be happy I'm not Cousin It._

"Are you sure you don't wanna come along, Derek?" Emily asked.

Derek made a "meh" face. "Have fun, though." He stopped her from folding her arms across her chest. There would be no shyness in that dress.

"Later," Sam said to Derek as he put a protective hand on each girl.

"See ya," Derek said.

Soon enough, Derek was alone in the living room. He popped _Clerks_ into the machine, studiously lowering the volume on the TV before flopping down on the couch. Didn't make any difference to _him_, but he didn't need his Dad to yell at him because Marti was picking up new vocabulary._ Again_.

After a few minutes, his Dad came downstairs having begged, or bribed, Smarti into bed at last. He patted him on the shoulder.

"Not going out?" Dad signed.

"Nope," Derek signed back.

Dad put his hand on Derek's forehead, checking for fever. Derek slapped his hand away.

"I just didn't feel like going out," Derek said. "Stop acting like that's weird."

Dad shrugged. Derek was pretty sure that the man had given up on trying to figure him out. He ruffled Derek's hair and took off for his own room, where he would, no doubt, try for a little alone time with Nora.

Derek shuddered. Not that he blamed them for doing whatever it was they were about to do, but he preferred not to think about it. He tried to focus on the movie in front of him. He'd seen it fifty times, had it memorized, but told himself he could always watch it again.

Forty minutes or so in, Edwin flopped down next to him, followed soon after by Lizzie. It didn't take Derek long to realize that blowing off the party was a colossally stupid idea. Even Edwin's giggling and Lizzie's horrified reaction to some of the dirtier jokes couldn't make him any less bored.

He handed the remote to Lizzie. "All yours," he said. Then he went upstairs to change.

Part Two: Casey.

Sam's idea of a good time at a party apparently consisted of just standing around. The music was too loud to have a decent conversation (and no matter what anyone told her, her signing wasn't good enough to use in public).

She stood up on tiptoes to get up to his ear and ask if he would dance with her.

"I really don't dance," Sam said.

"It's not like anyone's paying attention," Casey said. "And look at some of these people! They can't dance either! Think they care?"

Sam gave her a "please don't make me" face. After a few minutes, she drifted onto the dance floor without him. It seemed like there were a lot of girls dancing by themselves. As their dates watched. She tried not to be creeped out by that.

Emily had warned Casey that at least three quarters of the straight guys would not be dancing. There might be a gay guy or two, but otherwise, they'd just have to dance with each other. So they did for a while, until Casey decided that she just couldn't take it anymore and tried to drag Sam onto the floor. It's worked for her before.

Except that he would not be budged.

She tried sweet talk. "Come on," she said. "I just want to dance with my hot boyfriend."

She pouted. He looked terrified.

"What are you so afraid of?" she asked.

"Not afraid," Sam said. "Just clumsy."

"And inhibited," Casey said. "It's a good thing you're so cute."

"Is that all I am to you?" Sam teased. "A piece of meat?"

She tickled him; he tickled back. Then a really great song started up. She gave Sam the puppy-face.

"Go 'head," he said. "I kinda like watching you."

"Perv," she said, but she was smiling as she went back out onto the dance floor.

A few more guys were gradually getting up the courage to join her and the other girls. She recognized Steve from the hockey team, and Ralph among the decent dancers. Plus a couple of total spazzes including Cory Plunkett who'd recently made fun of _her_ for being clumsy.

_Who's Klutzilla now?_ she thought, deftly moving out of his path every time he tried to get close to her. The music shifted from some anonymous perky pop remix to a Sean Paul song she knew.

A hot grade twelve guy sidled up to her and Emily for a song or three. Casey and Emily managed to share a moment of squee while his head was turned. She'd even tried to nudge Emily closer to him, but Ralph got in the way. He grabbed Emily and spun her around quickly, making her laugh. Then he pulled her close for a minute or two, their foreheads (among other things) almost touching and Casey wondered if she should interrupt and separate them before they got any closer.

It's not that she didn't like Ralph. The couple of times she's spoken with him he's seemed like the sweetest kid in the world, besides Sam, of course. And it was clear that Derek and Sam would do anything for him, and vice versa, but she still didn't know if she approved of him with Emily. She thought that it might be because she'd recently reread _Of Mice and Men_ and he reminded her a bit too much of Lenny. Like he might accidentally snap Emily's neck, then go to Sam, looking all ashamed of himself and say "I done it again."

She knew enough to keep thoughts like that to herself, though.

She was looking for the cute senior to see if she could steer him back toward Emily when she felt a slight welcome breeze from the door opening. She thought,_ that's nice,_ _keep that open_, because she was a little sweaty. Then she saw a small group of people descend on whoever had just come in. She forgot about the grade twelve then, and hopped up on tiptoe a couple of times because she suddenly had to know who it was everyone was so interested in. Then she saw a very familiar pile of hair.

_Oh, it's just Derek_, she thought. _Thought it would be someone interesting_. She tried to go back to dancing, but he managed to throw her off by shoulder-bumping her on his way through the dance floor. Derek would not be ignored. Ever. She smacked his arm.

"Love you too, sis,_"_ he signed at her.

"I don't know you," she signed back.

Derek laughed and tried to get his hand into her hair to mess it up, but she ducked him and did her best to get lost in the crowd.

Part Three: Sheldon.

Sheldon Schlepper hid out in the kitchen while the party raged on in the living room. This was a kitchen he'd been in often enough since he lived right next door and his brother was best friends with Brian, who was throwing the party.

He would've stayed home and contented himself with the newest Christopher Moore novel and some leftovers, but Shawn, his older brother, had dragged him.

"Get your ass out of the house," Shawn had said. "There'll be girls."

"And crappy music," Sheldon said. He knew Brian too well to trust him to DJ.

"But girls!" Shawn said.

The argument had convinced Sheldon in the short run, but it hadn't taken long for several girls to reject him. So he tried to leave. He got to his front door before he realized that he didn't have his keys.

Just his luck.

Their parents were out at some kind of business dinner, probably having a better time than he was. His sister Shawna was out visiting her boyfriend at his dorm. She was only in grade eleven, and their folks didn't know about the guy, but Sheldon wasn't going to be the one to rat her out.

_Worst case scenario, the college guy impregnates her, Shawn murders him and suddenly I become the good son_, Sheldon thought. _Win-win situation, any way you look at it_.

The upside of this was that he had no choice but to go back inside. Shawn, who still seemed to be putting the moves on Casey McDonald, never noticed that he'd left. There were a limited number of places for Sheldon to hide. He ruled out the upstairs pretty quickly, thinking that people might be having sex, or, if Brian had some common sense, the doors would be locked. He thought about hanging out in the backyard, but that would be too depressing (and cold, not to mention wet) even for him, so he settled on the kitchen. It was comfortingly empty; as the party wore on, people would start to trickle in, and hang out in there, but for the moment, he felt safe.

Bored, but safe.

He killed an hour or so by playing with the magnetic poetry on the fridge door, and had gotten pretty absorbed even as people came in and out for sodas and chips and such, until Derek Venturi came in.

"Hey," Derek said.

_Shoulda gone with the backyard_, Sheldon thought. He turned and nodded.

_Yep, backyard_, Sheldon thought. _Backyard it is._

"Leaving?" Derek asked.

Sheldon toyed with the idea of ignoring him and just going outside, but he couldn't kid himself. Sheldon Schlepper was a social animal, one who could not resist speaking when spoken to.

"Sorta?" he said.

"Are you not sure?" Derek asked.

"You care?" Sheldon said, shrugging. _Why is this kid talking to me? _He wondered._ It's not like he ever has before._

"This your house?" Derek asked.

"Nope," Sheldon said. "Not my house. Not my party."

"So then what are you doing hiding in here?" Derek asked.

"What are _you_ doing hiding in here?" Sheldon asked.

Derek grinned. "I was bored."

"So you decided to go on a tour of strange kitchens?" Sheldon asked.

"Beats watching _Clerks_ for the hundredth time," Derek said. "I _was_ gonna chill with Sam, but he's too busy growling at your brother."

"Really?" Sheldon said, suddenly interested. "Is he still hitting on Casey?"

"Yeah," Derek said. He shuddered theatrically.

"Think Sam will want help hiding the body?" Sheldon asked.

Derek laughed. "Where's your sense of loyalty, Sheldon?" he asked. "Sounds like you wanna kick your brother's ass or something."

"What's your point?" Sheldon said.

Derek laughed some more.

"And what the hell is so funny?" Sheldon asked.

"What's so funny? _You_," Derek said. "You're being all..._honest_. It's blowing my mind."

"Listen to you, acting like you know me or something," Sheldon said.

"I know everybody," Derek said. "And _you_ don't do honest."

_So you seem to think,_ Sheldon thought. He suppressed a snort.

"What?" Derek said. "You're not gonna to tell me _I'm_ full of shit?"

"Nah," Sheldon said. "Why rub it in?"

Derek laughed harder.

"Are you drunk or what?" Sheldon asked.

"No, I don't drink," Derek said. "And I could ask you the same thing, dude. Where is this honesty thing coming from, 'cause I hope it's not contagious."

"I'm sure you'd be immune if it were," Casey said, from the doorway.

_Don't laugh at that_, Sheldon thought. But he couldn't help but snicker. Derek turned around and saw Casey there.

"Hey, Sweaty," Derek said. "Do you have that not so fresh feeling?"

"You'd know _all _about that, wouldn't you?" Casey asked, brushing past him and reaching into the cooler.

"So Sheldon, have you been officially introduced to your new sister-in-law?" Derek asked Sheldon.

"What?" Casey asked. She turned to Sheldon. "What is he talking about?"

Sheldon rolled his eyes. "You were dancing with my brother, and _your_ brother is ready to start a round of 'Casey and Shawn sitting in a tree.' Get with the program."

"_Step_-brother," Casey said.

"_That's _what you pick up on?" Sheldon asked.

"Welcome to my world," Derek said.

"That was your brother?" Casey asked, popping the top on her soda and taking a swig. "Grade twelve guy? Black shirt?"

"Hitting on you half the night?" Sheldon said. "Yep, that's him."

_Now she's gonna say 'are you sure? You don't look anything alike' _Sheldon thought.

"Hitting on me?" Casey said. "Really?"

A slow grin spread across her face. Derek rolled his eyes.

"But I really do like my boyfriend," Casey said, snapping back to reality.

"Where _is_ your boyfriend," Derek asked.

"I dunno," Casey said. She gestured behind her. "Out there somewhere, _not_ dancing with me."

"I could've told you he wouldn't," Derek said.

Casey ignored him. She took a hair thingee from around her wrist and pulled her hair into a ponytail, suddenly managing to look neat again. Sheldon thought she looked a little better with messy hair.

She turned to Sheldon. "So I was thinking of putting in a good word about Emily to your brother," she said. "What do you think?"

_Actually, I think that's kind of a shitty idea_, Sheldon thought. But he shrugged. "It's up to you."

The door swung open again, this time for Emily and Linda Martinez.

"_There_ you are," Emily said. Casey handed them the two other sodas she'd taken out.

"Hey Sheldon," Emily said.

"I didn't know you were here, Sheldon," Linda said.

"Here I am," he said.

"Um, I'm here, too," Derek said. Emily giggled and started to fiddle with her hair. Casey slapped her hands away.

Linda swung to face Derek. "Yeah, but I'm mad at you," she said.

"Why?"

"Refusing to dance with me?" Linda said.

"Would if I could," Derek said.

"Puh-leeze," Linda said. "I bet you've danced before."

Derek said nothing, looked innocent. Casey smirked. Sheldon's eyebrows went up, wondering if Derek was about to lie.

"Never?" Linda asked.

"_Never_," Derek said.

_Lying like a rug_, Sheldon decided. Emily caught his eye and smiled.

"Casey?" Linda asked.

_Busted_, Sheldon thought.

"Don't look at _me_," Casey dodged. "You've all known him longer than I have."

"Yeah, but what about when your folks got married," Linda said. "You said there was lots of dancing."

Derek's head whiplashed from Linda's face to Casey's.

"Well," Casey said. "I might have tried to drag him out."

"And?"

"And nothing. He played the deaf card. Like _that'_s an excuse," Casey said, shrugging. "Edwin was so much more fun, anyway."

Linda seemed to accept that.

"How bout you, Sheldon," Emily said. "How come you're in here, and not dancing?"

_After the fifth girl looks at you like something she stepped in, you kinda give up on asking girls to dance,_ Sheldon thought. "Meh," he said.

"What?" Emily said. "It's not like you're shy. I've seen you dance before."

It was true. He was the opposite of shy. And normally he _would_ be out there dancing. By himself if he had to. Just to pretend that he didn't care what people thought of him. But he just wasn't in the mood to be happy! oblivious! Sheldon that night.

"And yet you ask why I'm not dancing now?" Sheldon asked.

"So does that mean you won't dance with _me_?" Emily asked, pouting. Everybody turned to look at Sheldon, so he had to pretend to be completely unaffected by her pout.

_You're kidding right?_ Sheldon thought.

"Um," he said.

Derek started chuckling like he knew what Sheldon was thinking. He suppressed the urge to flip Derek the bird. He really did have more important things to think about, like whether he had enough dignity to politely turn down the offer of a pity dance from Emily Davis.

Who was he kidding? _Of course_, he didn't.

"Okay," Sheldon said.

"Let's wait till this song ends, though," Emily said. "I think I've had enough reggaeton for one night."

"Aw," Sheldon said. "¿No se gusta la gasolina?"

Emily laughed, which was a bit of a surprise. People didn't usually laugh when he was being intentionally funny. "Not so much," she said. "I think we're due for a slow jam. What do you think?"

Linda sang a little bit of "Let's Get it On," to the groans of most of the room. Sheldon felt his face get a little hot even as he tried to laugh.

"What are my chances of getting a slow dance out of Sam?" Casey wondered.

"Heh," Derek said. "Good one."

"About as good as _my_ chances of getting a slow dance out of _you_?" Linda asked him.

Casey smirked again.

"Worse," Derek said. Casey shook her head and headed back to the living room with a soda to bribe her boyfriend with.

"Wanna go watch her get shut down?" Derek asked Linda.

"Do you have a single romantic bone in your body?" Linda asked.

Sheldon snorted.

"You have a dirty mind," Derek told him.

"Clearly, you do too," Sheldon said. Derek did sort of a shrug/nod hybrid.

"You know what they say about dirty minds," Emily said.

"They're ' a terrible thing to waste,'" Linda said. "Anyway, I call dibs on Schlepper as soon as you're done with him, Em, okay?"

"Ahem?" Sheldon said. "Standing right here?"

"And?"

"And, you really know how to make a guy feel special," Sheldon said.

"I try," Linda said. He started blushing again. It did sorta make his day, actually. She pinched his cheek as Emily led him out of the kitchen and onto the dance floor just as Brian was trying to transition (awkwardly) between two songs.

_Worst. DJ. Ever_, Sheldon thought.

"See?" Emily said in his ear (major goosebumps) when Matchbox Twenty's "Hand Me Down" started up. "Told you we were overdue for a slow song."

_Best. DJ. Ever_, Sheldon thought.

"When you're right, you're right," Sheldon said. He was about to be polite and get into waltz position when Emily got a little closer and put her arms around his neck. He was overdelicate in closing his arms around her.

"Relax, Schlep," she said. "I don't bite."

"Well, where's the fun in _that_?" he said.

She pulled back a couple of inches to look at him like he was crazy. He took one hand off of her to feel his own forehead.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Checking to see if a horn sprouted," he said.

"A horn?" she asked. "Not a dick on your forehead?"

"I was _trying_ to be tactful," Sheldon said.

"You?"

"Could happen," he said. She laughed _again_. There was a logical explanation for this somewhere, this ridiculously cute girl randomly coming up to him and giving him his first decent slow dance since his bar mitzvah even though she had no reason to. He'd figure it out later, he decided. Right at that moment he just planned to enjoy it.

Part Four: Sam.

Sam was on the floor up against one wall. Casey, looking for him, had literally had to stumble over his feet. He'd spent some time in an overstuffed marshmallow of an armchair, but he made the mistake of getting up for a minute to find the bathroom. When he got back, there were a couple of grade elevens groping each other in his marshmallow. So he pulled up a piece of floor.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" Casey said, after she regained her balance and realized what had happened.

"S'okay," Sam said, rubbing his calf where she'd accidentally kicked him. With her pointy shoes. "If I have to be injured, I'm glad it's you doing it."

"Hey!"

"Kidding," Sam said. He got to his feet, and brushed himself off. Judging by the amount of fur on him, there was probably a cat or three hiding in the basement of this house.

Casey smiled at him, nodded toward the DJ and stated the obvious. "Slow song," she said.

"Yep," he said.

She stuck out her lower lip. He felt his resolve weaken a little. He supposed he could manage a slow dance. It wouldn't kill him.

"You're not pulling the lower lip thing on him are you?" Derek said from behind Sam.

Sam turned. "Do you mind?" he signed.

"No," Derek signed back, grinning.

"Did you _want_ something?" Casey asked Derek.

"Just saving my boy Sam from himself," Derek said. Casey narrowed her eyes at him.

_Here we go,_ Sam thought.

Linda grabbed Derek's chin and pulled his face toward hers.

"What did I tell you about being nice to your sister?" she asked.

"_Step_-sister," Derek and Casey said in almost perfect unison.

"Whatever," Linda said. "You're coming with me." She dragged Derek off someplace. Sam didn't really care where and Casey pretended that she didn't either. For a second.

"I love how Linda thinks she's gonna civilize him," Casey said. "Gotta admire her for trying, but Derek's a lost cause."

"Uh-huh," Sam said.

"Linda's cool though," Casey said. "Too bad she has no taste in men."

"Yeah, whatever," Sam said. "I thought you wanted to dance?"

"Huh?" Casey asked. "Yes, dance, now!"

He laughed at her sudden loss of articulation. Plus, he would've said and done anything to get her off the subject of Derek before she really got going.

He pulled her close and she put her head on his chest. They swayed a little, but other than that, Sam moved as little as possible, his feet planted on the floor. Casey seemed okay with it for the moment. Then the song changed and the DJ decided to lower the volume on the music before he got arrested. It was starting to get late. People started gathering in clumps on the stairs, on couches, and on patches of floor.

Sam made a joke of not wanting to let go of her. He was only partially kidding.

"Um," Casey said. "Song's over."

"I'm aware," Sam said.

"So, we can stop doing this," Casey said, starting to giggle.

"Why?" Sam said.

"In favor of other stuff," Casey said.

He let go of her. "Fair enough," he said. "Like what?"

"Talk?"

_Dammit,_ he thought. "Okay," he said.

Talking seemed to get him in trouble sometimes. In the best of circumstances, Casey turned him stupid, but now she was also putting him on the spot. She'd gotten to talking about a writing journal that someone gave her and the prompts it had, and so she decided to ask him some of the questions.

"Come on!" Casey said, when his answers weren't exactly forthcoming. "Why won't you play with me?"

"I'm trying," Sam said. "It just never occurred to me that I'd ever have to use song lyrics to describe myself. I mean, call me unimaginative..."

"You're unimaginative," Casey teased.

Sam mimed being slapped in the face.

"Who's unimaginative?" Sheldon asked. Kid seemed to teleport from the other end of the room.

"Aw, Sam's not unimaginative" Emily said. She came up behind the couch they were sitting on and patted him on the head.

"Thank you, Emily," Sam said. "At least _some_one's nice to me around here."

"Hey!" Casey said. "I'll have you know I am _very_ nice."

This was greeted with silence. They all understood the fun inherent in messing with Casey.

"I am!" Casey insisted.

"Oh, by the way," Emily said. "You are also the worst liar ever."

"Worst," Sheldon agreed.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Linda was trying the hard sell in the kitchen before, trying to get Derek to dance with her," Emily began.

_And now we're back to Derek_, Sam thought.

"So Derek's like 'Dance? Uh-uh, no way!'" Sheldon said. "And Casey shot him this look like—"

"Like 'You're in trou-ble,'" Emily sing-songed. "But then she lied about dancing with him at their parents' wedding—"

In their shock, Sam and Sheldon talked at the same time.

"Wait a minute!" Sheldon said. "_You_ danced with Derek—"

"And he went _willingly_?" Sam asked.

Casey winced. "Yeah."

"To _dance_," Sam said.

"I got caught up in the moment," Casey said. "And there was no one else to dance with—Edwin was busy. Believe me, it'll never happen again."

"So you own him now, right?" Sheldon asked.

"Please," Casey said. "I have better blackmail than that."

"That's actually kinda big," Sam said, before he could stop himself.

"No it's not," Casey downplayed. "I'm sure you have way better ammo. And maybe you'll tell me about some of it, right?"

Sam's head hurt.

"Where_ is_ Derek?" Casey asked, scanning the room for him. Emily looked around, too.

"Probably went off with Linda," Em said. The corners of her mouth went down. Sheldon, seeing this, rolled his eyes.

"Where?" Casey asked.

"Upstairs?" Emily said, shrugging like it made no difference to her, her face saying the opposite.

"I guess it's their business,"Casey said.

"Uh-huh," Emily said.

"But _ew_," Casey said.

Sam noticed that Sheldon looked just as disgusted as he felt. Around both girls, the world just seemed to fill with Derek sometimes. Emily's crush was no secret, but it was getting harder for Sam to pretend that he didn't notice Casey's.

Part Five: Derek.

The lights went up a little and people started to do a little more talking, which meant that the noise level went down. Derek thought that he and Linda could evict a couple of niners and grab themselves a little bit of space on the couch. He was about to suggest this when she pulled him in the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?" Derek asked.

She put a finger up to her lips to shush him. People didn't often get away with that. If _Casey_ had shushed him, for example..._well, best not to think about that_, he told himself.

"Shush?" Derek said. She should really know him well enough to understand the impossibility of the request.

She pulled him toward one end of the living room and before he could do anything, she pulled open a closet door, and, finding it empty, nodded toward it, beckoning him to follow.

"This looks so much cleaner than the stairwell at the mall," she said. "Don't you think?"

The girl was a genius.

She pulled the cord to turn the light on.

"On or off?" she asked.

"I don't care," Derek said. It wasn't like she dragged him in there to talk.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," Derek said, shrugging.

"You'll be okay in the dark?"

"Yeah," Derek said, grinning. "Will _you_?" People always assumed he'd be afraid of the dark. Afraid of injuring himself or someone else? Sure. But he'd already gotten a good look around and felt pretty sure that nothing much could happen to either of them in there. So he was fine.

"Besides, people can probably see the light on through the gap at the bottom of the door and know someone's in here," Derek said.

"Good point," she said, pulling the cord again.

She made the first move, putting a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him closer to her. There was a little less clumsiness than he expected. She wore some perfume that smelled like lemon Italian ice...the type of thing that tons of people wore. That was comforting.

He twined a hand into her curly hair. It was slightly crunchy from too much gel, but he could still get his hand in there easily. He ran the other hand lightly up her side, under her t-shirt to see what she'd let him get away with. She stopped him pretty much when he expected her to, but he felt her giggle, so he wasn't too discouraged. He felt her moan when he kissed her collarbone. He tasted a little bit of her lotion. It matched the perfume.

That's when it occurred to him that he was having too much fun and there had to be a catch.

"Mmmph," he said, reaching for the light. "Wait a sec."

"What?" Linda asked.

"Does this mean that we're—"

"Friends," Linda said. She shut the light off again.

He put it back on. "Are you sure you really mean 'friends' because I don't wanna find out later—"

She put a finger over his lips and with the other hand shut the light off yet again.

_Okay_, he thought. _Good enough for me_. He probably would've gotten back together with her if she wanted to, but if she didn't, if she just wanted to mess around, no strings attached, that was cool, too. Beyond cool, if he was being honest.

His cell phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He ignored it, hoping that Linda didn't notice.

But the damn thing kept going off. And Linda was saying something. She put the light on.

He sighed and flipped it open.

"We have a ride home," the message read. "Get your ass over here before we leave you." It was from Casey. Before he flipped the phone shut he noticed that it was after midnight already and they really did need to get home before one or his Dad would go nuclear. He also noticed that his ringer was on. That was suspicious.

"This didn't just play something embarrassing did it?" he asked Linda.

"Depends on your definition of embarrassing," Linda said.

He groaned. "What is it?" he asked. "I need to know so I can figure out who to kill."

"'I Want it That Way,'" Linda told him. "Backstreet Boys."

He nodded. He'd look it up later to see if there needed to be revenge. Or maybe he'd just ask Sam. It didn't seem too bad based on the title. He shut the ringer off just in case, though.

That was when the door flew open. They both jumped and turned to see Casey standing in front of them with her arms crossed. She was like every teacher he was ever afraid of.

He was speechless for a few seconds.

"You rang?" Linda asked.

Derek laughed.

"Linda, how can you stand kissing him?" Casey asked. "You must have the strongest stomach ever."

"Blah blah blah, you two hate each other. I get it, already," Linda said. "Someday it'll stop being cute." She edged past Casey, then put an arm around her, nudging her toward Derek a little. Beyond Casey, he could see a few people giving Linda the slow clap as she started to walk away. After a few steps, she turned back to them.

"You two play nice, or you'll get a time out," Linda said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Casey asked.

He didn't feel like enlightening her. Instead, he hovered his hand a centimeter or two above her shoulder. She tried to move out of the way and even batted his hand away before she asked what he was doing.

"I'm not touching you," Derek said. He scanned the room real quick. People had mostly lost interest in him and Linda.

"Should've just left you here," Casey said.

"Why didn't you?" Derek asked. "We live like five blocks away. I walked over here."

"Seven blocks," Casey said. "And I was all for leaving you, but I don't look a gift ride in the mouth."

She said something else as she turned to walk and he had to make her repeat it.

"I said that Emily would be upset if you got murdered while walking home tonight," Casey said.

"But you wouldn't 'cause you still want my room," Derek said.

"Your room's disgusting," Casey said. "I would like more time in the bathroom, though, so if you really want to walk, I won't stop you."

He gave her ponytail a little tug. She pushed him.

The ride turned out to be courtesy of Shawn Schlepper, who apparently had access to his Mom's minivan. After they'd said goodbye to people, Derek watched Shawn and Sheldon trade insults as they all walked over to the car. He caught very little of what they'd actually said, but it didn't matter. He did the same thing with Edwin all the time.

He put Derek, as the odd man out, in the front seat with him so that Sam and Casey could make out and Sheldon could (if he had any sense at all) continue to hit on Emily. The front seat was good though. He wouldn't be expected to keep up any conversations from the front seat. The later it got, the harder it became to read people's lips. That was the main reason people signed with him so much, to give him a break.

And keeping up with the motor-mouthed Schlepper brothers would have been impossible. So he turned his head to the window and closed his eyes, hoping that Shawn would take the hint and not ask him stuff.

Next thing he knew the guy was shaking him awake.

"Crap," Derek said. "Sorry."

Shawn flapped a hand like "No big deal," and as Derek climbed out, he hazarded a look around to see exactly how much Casey was laughing at him.

She kept her mouth shut tight, but her shoulders shook a little, giving her away. Sam put his arm around her and marched her up the driveway.

Emily got out of the back, followed by Sheldon, who just missed hitting his head on the way out. They all pretended that it didn't happen.

She said something and reached for Derek's chin. She turned his head to one side, then the other.

"What?" Derek asked. "Hicky?"

"Nope," she said. She rubbed at his face and showed him her hand, which was glittery.

"Great," Derek said, scrubbing at his face with one hand. He even took a swipe at it with the hem of his shirt, but it was a losing battle. Did this have to happen with every girl he made out with? Was someone gonna hook him up with Tinkerbell next?

Derek hung out at the edge of the driveway so that Sam and Casey could get their smooch on without him having to watch. He did, however get an eyeful of Sheldon _not_ kissing Emily. Out of the corner of his eye, Derek thought he saw Shawn shaking his head.

"Well," Derek said when he decided he'd waited long enough. "Thanks for the ride, man."

"Anytime, bro," Shawn said.

Sam passed Derek on the way back to the Schlepmobile.

"Sup," Derek said.

Sam shrugged. "Not much."

But something was up.

"What is it?" Derek said.

"Nothing," Sam signed. "Need sleep."

"Me too," Derek signed. "I'll guess I'll have to bug you later."

Sam nodded, like he expected as much.

"Night," he said.


	15. Chapter 15

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Fifteen

Part One: George.

Seemed like a normal Saturday morning. Marti tried to lap up the rest of the milk from her cereal. She was having a feline sort of a day.

George watched Edwin spoon enough chocolate into his milk to have it no longer qualify as milk. It fascinated George to watch the milk level rise higher and higher in the glass as the kid added more and more cocoa powder and Lizzie's eyebrow seemed to rise at the same level as she waited for Ed to quit bogarting the damn chocolate. Soon, she was just going to take it away from him.

Casey was making an egg sandwich to eat on the run. Derek guzzled his coffee. He was at that age where he enjoyed the coffee more than he needed the caffeine.

George was long past that stage. As was Nora. She glared at Derek when he reached for the pot to pour his second cup before she'd had her first. George gave him credit for trying not to laugh at the faces she made.

"Okay," he said, backing away.

Nora made another snarly face and waited till his back was turned to smile.

"You made eggs?" she asked George, astonished.

"It's not unheard of," George said.

"Awww," Nora said, putting one arm around George and taking a mighty gulp of her coffee with the other. Then she kissed him.

Derek cleared his throat. They both ignored him. In fact, they might've turned up the heat a little to mess with him.

"Losing my appetite, here," Derek said. The statement might have had more impact had he not taken a bite right after making it. Edwin would have had his mouth full during.

"We live to disgust you, Derek," Nora said.

"I know you do," Derek said. "Try not to rub my face in it, though."

"It's not _your_ face I'm interested in," Nora said, before turning her head to rub noses with George.

Casey reached over Derek to grab the ketchup. She squiggled some into her sandwich before cutting it in half and wrapping it up. Derek, unable to let her go without bugging her a little, half-heartedly tried to nudge her out of the way. She whacked him on the shoulder with the box of tinfoil. Derek smiled.

_She's finally clearly getting the hang of the way things are done around here_, George thought.

"Okay," Casey said to the room at large. "I'm out."

"Of your mind?" Derek said. "I agree."

George got the feeling that Casey would have had a few things to say if he and Nora (and Marti) weren't around. But since they were around, she had nothing to say. So she just left.

Derek was unfazed.

"By the way, Ed?" Derek began. "Quick question. Just wondering—is there any reason I should have a Backstreet Boys song programmed into my phone?"

"Ooh," Marti said. "Lemme see?"

"Maybe later, Smarti," Derek said. "Any ideas, Ed?"

Edwin snorted. "Backstreet Boys?"

Derek double checked. "Yep," he said. "Backstreet Boys."

"Which song?" Edwin asked.

Derek got off his stool and moved a little closer to Edwin, who wasn't intimidated yet.

"I'm gonna give you another minute to think about this, Ed," Derek said. "Are you really going to pretend that you had nothing to do with it?"

"No," Edwin said, grinning. "I'm not pretending at all; I didn't do it. But I kinda wish I did."

Edwin was a natural suspect, because usually he and Derek were the only ones who knew how deal with the electronic stuff in the house. Usually.

Derek came closer, trying his best to be intimidating.

"Okay, guys," Nora said, getting between them. "If Edwin says he didn't do it, he didn't do it."

Lizzie snorted. Derek didn't notice it, but Edwin shot her a dirty look. She shrugged semi-apologetically.

"I wasn't accusing him," Derek lied. "I was just asking."

"Uh-huh," Nora said. "Eat your eggs."

Derek didn't have to be told twice. He went back to his breakfast, and Nora, still used to dealing with the unusually well-behaved Casey and Lizzie, seemed to think it was over, and that Derek wouldn't get Edwin later.

George wondered if he should let the kid off the hook or wait till he moved on to his next suspect, which would undoubtedly be Casey. The prospect of that seemed like too much fun to pass up.

Nora reached for George's cell phone, in the charger next to the toaster. She scrolled through his contact list and sent a text to Derek, starting the phone buzzing and playing the song.

Derek picked it up, and checked it as everyone else laughed. Then he looked up in time to see Nora hide the phone behind her back.

"I see how it is," Derek said. "You're all out to get me. But that's okay. I'll just go upstairs and hide under my bed until I'm eighteen. Mean! All of you, _mean_!" He stormed off cartoonishly, for Marti's benefit, George thought, because she didn't always get the joke right away.

Halfway out the door, he about-faced and came back in to steal a piece of Edwin's toast. Then he headed toward the living room to take possession of the remote control.

Edwin let the theft of food pass uncommented except to reach for a piece of Lizzie's toast.

"Don't even think about it," Lizzie said without looking up.

"Hmmph," Edwin said.

Soon enough it was time to clean up and start ferrying kids to assorted weekend stuff. It was a good hour and a half until George and Nora had a minute to themselves and what was the first thing out of Nora's mouth?

"It was _you_, wasn't it?" she asked.

"_What_ was me?" he asked.

"The ringtone."

"Why Nora, I have no idea what you're talking about," George said.

"Don't play dumb with me," Nora said. "Casey doesn't know how to do it; she's been trying for weeks to get one and she keeps screwing it up. Edwin would have picked something way dirtier than the Backstreet Boys."

"Damn," George said. "Should've thought of that."

"Yeah, you should've" Nora said. "But don't you think that maybe that was a little mean?"

"Not in the least," George said. "He was about a minute away from having Edwin help him pull a similar prank on Casey."

"How do you know?"

"Last week, I saw Ed looking up free ringtones on the Internet," George said. "I put two and two together."

"And you're not afraid that you're creating a monster, here?"

"Creating a monster?" George asked. "That ship sailed years ago. I probably should have warned you about the dominance of the pranking gene in our family."

"I had my suspicions," Nora said. "Especially after the kids met."

"Speaking of the kids," George said.

"Yeah, I know," Nora said. "They're not here."

For all her pretending to be above mischief, the Devil shone through the smile she gave him.

"Wanna play video games?" George asked.

She hit him.

"Kidding!" George said, following her to the basement.

At some point that night, George's phone rang to the tune of "I Wanna Sex You Up."

Nora dropped the book she'd been reading and almost fell off the bed.

"He's quick," George said, laughing. "Gotta give him that much."

"I wonder who picked that song," Nora said. "Remember it?"

"I had the T-shirt," George said.

"You didn't!"

"I did," George said. "Gag gift."

"Do you still have it?" Nora asked, getting up and going to the dresser. George had to grab her around the waist and pull her back onto the bed.

Part Two: Derek

Over the next couple of weeks, Derek noticed that Sam was starting to look a little frayed around the edges. He was chewing on his nails again and when he wasn't doing that, he couldn't keep his hands out of his hair. It stuck up worse than Derek's did.

And Derek thought he knew why.

There was hockey, obviously, but Sam always had hockey. On top of this, Casey had started to suck him into her keener vacuum. Sam, truth be told, had always had some overachiever tendencies, and it had taken Derek and Ralph years to drag him back to earth. Now they were back to square one.

"Freakin Shakespearean bullshit!" Sam said. They were in Sam's basement, trying to make sense out of their English homework. Derek took the fact that they were actually sorta going along with it as just more proof that Casey had reprogrammed Sam and he was trying to do the same to them.

Derek laughed. They were supposed to make sense out of some sonnets, and the prospect of writing one was looming over their heads. Sam was frustrated, Ralph downright horrified, but Derek was unconcerned. He didn't get any of this stuff either, but it didn't worry him. Who cared if he didn't understand it? That's what the Internet was for. And he didn't have to write the damn sonnet for another week, so why worry about it now?

"Casey has her sonnet done already, you know," Sam signed. "She read it to me."

"My sympathies, bro," Derek signed.

"Why don't you just ask her to translate this...stuff," Ralph signed. "And she'll tell _you_, and _you_ can tell _us_!"

"Are you crazy?" Sam asked. "I'm not telling her I don't get it!"

"Why?" Derek said. "I'm sure she'd love to tell you all about it. In detail. For about three hours."

"Ooh, take good notes," Ralph said.

Sam looked from Derek to Ralph and back again, saying nothing. His face said "you both suck," but he kept his mouth shut.

"I wonder if she's good in French," Ralph said. "Maybe I can get her to tutor me."

Derek and Sam both gave him looks of disgust.

"What?" Ralph said. "She's smart and stuff. And she's always got her hand up."

"Asks lots of questions," Sam said.

There was something about the way he said it. The slight tilt of his head and the quirk of his mouth. Stuff like tone of voice didn't matter; he knew Sam well enough to know that this was as close as he ever came to complaining.

"Trouble in paradise, Sammy?" Derek asked finally. It might not have been the right way to broach the subject, but he couldn't think of a better way.

Sam shot him a look and went back to his English notes.

"She's driving you nuts, isn't she?" Derek asked.

Sam looked up again and took a long time to answer. "Drop it," he said.

"Hate to say I told you so, but—" Derek said.

"Is there some part of 'drop it' you don't understand?" Sam asked.

So maybe it was too early for jokes.

"Fine," Derek said.

"Does this mean _I _can't ask her what sonnet 116 means?" Ralph asked.

Sam threw a wad of paper at him. Derek thumped him with a pencil. Ralph, for his part, looked innocent and oblivious, but Derek was pretty sure that Ralph said that to break tension. Not that he thought Ralph understood Sonnet 116, but neither did Derek himself.

"Is it time for a study break yet?" Ralph said, after a few more minutes.

"I vote yes," Derek said.

"This is not a democracy," Sam said.

Derek and Ralph looked at him in horror.

"Wait," Sam said. "Did I just say—"

"Yep," Derek said.

"Forget I said that," Sam said. "Let me see if there are any of those donuts left."

"Fight the power," Derek said. He got a dirty look for that, but for the moment, Derek would take it. It beat that look of anxiety any day.

Derek and Ralph used every bit of the donuts' resulting sugar high to get Sam to take his nose out of his books for a little while, but whenever they managed it, they had to deal with him looking at his watch every couple minutes.

"Um, we keeping you from something, buddy?" Ralph asked.

"I just need to finish this homework," Sam said. "So I can get a jump on the stupid sonnet."

"Now?" Derek asked.

"I won't have time this weekend," Sam said. "There's the game?"

"The game is Saturday," Derek said. "Homework is what God invented Sunday nights for. And Monday morning bus rides."

"I'm busy all day Sunday," Sam said. "Casey—"

Derek laughed for almost a full minute. When he got himself under control and looked up at his two friends, they were both staring at him like he was crazy.

"Casey's dragging you to her thing?" Derek signed, still fighting the residual giggles.

"Shut up," Sam signed.

"What thing?" Ralph signed.

"Oh man," Derek said. "Casey is going to volunteer at the old folks' home. She's afraid that they'll keep her there if Sam doesn't come along."

"What are you gonna do there?" Ralph asked, with interest.

"I have no idea," Sam said.

"It'll be okay," Ralph said. "Old people are cool."

"I think it's a good thing to do," Sam said. "I just don't really have time for it, is the problem."

"Couldn't say no?" Derek asked.

"Say no to _Casey_?"

"I do it all the time," Derek said.

Sam said nothing, went back to his notebook.

"You think she's gonna dump you if you say no?" Derek asked.

"I didn't say that," Sam said. "I'd just rather keep her happy."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Keep her _happy_?" he asked.

"You should try it sometime," Sam said.

"Nah," Derek said. "Making her mad is way more fun."

"Homework," Sam said, pointing his pen back at their collection of scattered books. His face shut right down. Derek pictured vines growing over it. Moats and drawbridges. Steel shutters.

Derek looked at Ralph, who shrugged and signed "Homework."

_Sure,_ Derek thought. _Me, he can stand up to. And I'm not the one who's making him do community service. Looks like he really has it bad. _

The thought really depressed him. It wasn't that he wanted someone to make him do stuff he didn't want to do, at least he didn't think it was that. It was that he wished he had someone he'd be _willing_ to do stuff for.

He liked Linda a lot. He respected her and was pretty sure that she was loads smarter than he was, but if she asked him to do something, he'd have five excuses ready.

So it was good that they weren't dating anymore. Just making out a little whenever the mood struck.

Casey needless to say, didn't approve of that. After they'd gotten home from the party, she'd tried to read him the mini riot act, something about being disrespectful to Linda and women in general, but he really didn't think Linda was at all offended. Especially considering the way she hoovered his collarbone.

He couldn't tell Casey that, though. He couldn't get a word in edgewise, first of all. Second, it was just too late at night. He was pretty sure that he looked like he was paying attention—he watched her mouth intently enough, but she could have been reciting all the lines from _The Godfather_ for all he knew. Any other day, he would've been happy to argue with her, sure that he'd win, but that night, he nodded until she went away so he could go to bed.

Part Three: Casey.

Why did it seem that there was always something that needed doing? It seemed like back in Toronto there was always at least a little bit of time to daydream, or to write things that weren't part of a school assignment. Here, there was always laundry to do, dinner to make, and kids to watch. Even Lizzie was starting to make Casey's life difficult, and, Casey got the distinct feeling that Lizzie was enjoying it.

Then there was Marti. She had an artistic temperament. And the attention span of a gnat.

In the three hours or so between the time Edwin and Lizzie walked her home to the time their parents got there, Marti could really run Casey ragged. Ed and Liz took a Zen approach to dealing with her, which made things worse.

"Um, guys?" Casey asked. "Where'd she go?"

"She's catering," Lizzie said, pointing toward the kitchen.

"With the knives??" Casey asked.

"She knows to use the butter knives," Edwin said.

"Are you kidding me?"

"We can see her from here," Edwin said, gesturing toward Marti, who waved. "Relax."

Casey could see a little bit of jelly on one cheek already.

It seemed that that day, Marti had a particularly packed schedule. The catering was for a tea party, complete with peanut butter and jelly on cracker sandwiches (crumbs everywhere). Lizzie, Edwin and Casey were given hand crayoned invitations for it.

Then, she oversaw the planning of Barbie's wedding to a curly haired boy doll whom Casey wasn't familiar with. Looked a little like Corbin Bleu, though. Ken was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was sulking. Marti designed three cakes. All purple.

"What flavor?" Casey asked, coloring in one of the cakes.

"Chocolate," Marti said. "We're gonna have to special order it."

"Where does one special order purple chocolate?" Casey asked.

"Um," Marti said. "Edwin? Where does purple chocolate come from?"

"France," Edwin said, not looking up from the TV.

"Cool," Marti said, picking up her pink plastic toy cell phone and dialing France. It was hard for her to get though to them, apparently.

"No! Don't put me on...hold," Marti said, imitating her Dad perfectly.

_This child is a Martian_, Casey thought.

Marti huffed as she flipped the phone closed.

"I need to de-stress," she said.

So she talked Lizzie into playing spa, which gave Casey a good half an hour off to study. They walked around with Casey's Noxzema smeared on their faces, trailing the smell of menthol through the house. Edwin made himself scarce before they could get him with it.

"Come on, Ed," Marti said, following him down the hall. "Don't you want a shi tzu massage?"

"Guys," Casey said. "Please don't smear that stuff anywhere, okay?"

"Relax, Case," Lizzie said. "We didn't use that much. Less is more, right Smarti?"

"Uh-huh," Marti said.

"So it's not going anywhere," Lizzie said.

"You look like you need to de-stress too, Casey," Marti said. Lizzie laughed her head off.

"Whatcha trying to say, Liz?" Casey asked.

Right then, they heard the back door open and clatter shut.

"Smerek!" Marti said, taking off downstairs, the towel that she'd been trying to turban onto her head falling to the floor unattended.

Casey picked up the towel and went after her before she got the walls greasy. She got to the kitchen just in time to see Marti's face plastered to Derek's shirt as she hugged him.

"What's all over you, Smarti?" he asked, thumbing it off of her cheek.

"We were playing spa," Marti said, a little apologetically, since the goo was all over his t-shirt now. "Sorry, Smerek."

"It'll come off," he said, shrugging. "But the question is, will it come off your face?" He picked her up and put her on the counter. Then, he went to the sink and wet a napkin to wipe Marti down.

She signed to him a little. Casey caught the word "beautiful" and guessed what she was asking. Derek confirmed it when he signed "always," and beeped her nose.

Casey pretended she didn't see any of that as she passed them on the way to the fridge for some water.

Marti started to tell him all about her day, way too fast for Casey to follow. She picked up words like "chocolate" and "purple" and "Edwin."

"France, huh?" Derek asked, grinning.

"Uh-huh," Marti said, before she went back to signing. It was like watching _War and Peace_ told in the space of two minutes. Then, being Marti, she, seemingly mid-sentence, reached up and gave Derek a kiss before hopping off the counter and flouncing away.

Casey shook her head in amazement. She'd never get used to Marti. It had been maybe three months already and she couldn't wrap her mind around that little girl and her energy level.

Derek laughed. "She's good, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," Casey said.

"What's for dinner?" he signed.

She shrugged.

"Who's cooking?" he signed.

Another shrug.

"Do my homework for me?" he signed, probably hoping for another shrug.

"No," she signed.

He chuckled and tried to ask her some more stuff. She tried changing the subject.

"You're covered in crud, you know," she said.

He pretended not to understand. "Sorry, what?" he signed.

"You're just gonna keep bugging me, aren't you?" she asked.

He cocked his head, pretending to be puzzled.

"Shirt," she signed. "Messy."

"Try again," he signed.

"You're a pig," she signed. He laughed and looked at the Marti print on his t-shirt. He walked over to the washing machine, on top of which was a basket that had some clean t-shirts in it. He took off the messy shirt and put on another with a perfect lack of self-consciousness.

"What?" he asked. She shook her head, avoiding eye contact. It would've been the perfect time to make a crack about counting his ribs and freckles, perhaps being blinded by his whiteness, but she just wanted out of the kitchen immediately.

She'd seen him without a shirt on before, but it was all about context. A quick flash of his back as he came out of the bathroom in a towel, for some reason wasn't any big thing because she expected it to happen. Unexpected shirtlessness was another matter.

"What is your problem?" he asked.

"You're so skinny," she said, finally. "It depresses me."

He smirked, and pretended to flex muscles he barely had, lifting the hem of the clean shirt to expose the very beginnings of a six-pack. She backed out of the room in mock horror.

Neither Lizzie nor Edwin looked up from the TV.

Part Four: Emily.

"Was that so bad?" Emily asked.

"I guess not," Casey said. "If only it weren't so _violent_."

They'd been leaving the rink, and some guy right behind them overheard Casey and laughed.

Casey had no attention span when it came to hockey. Both Sam and George had tried to explain the game to her before she'd finally asked Emily, and Emily got to see her friend's eyes glaze over for herself. To be fair, it was the same look she herself got whenever Casey brought up Jane Austen.

But she'd somehow managed to keep Casey awake through an entire game to take the burden off of George and Edwin who were actually interested in how it turned out. That was something. The team had won and now Emily got to watch Casey jump on Sam as he came out to meet them.

"Hey Em," Sam said, nodding to her before he pulled Casey close.

"Hey _you,_" he said to Casey.

"Hey," Casey said, breathlessly.

"What's the matter?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," Casey said. She pulled away just far enough to fan herself a little. "This is just a side of you I've never seen, I guess."

"Ew," Derek said, from behind Emily. "She did not just say that, did she?"

"I'm afraid so," Emily said, after she'd recovered a bit. He startled her.

"Hopeless," he said.

"Great game, though," Emily said, holding her arms open for what could go down in history as the world's most awkward hug. He pecked her on the cheek, which for some reason, brightened her mood even though that's the way he probably kissed his grandmother.

"Thanks for coming," Derek said.

"I had a good time," she said.

"Checking Casey's pulse?" he asked.

"It wasn't that bad," Emily said. "The constant cringing, however..."

"Yep," Derek said. "I figured. So are you coming with us? Pizza's on Dad."

"Oh, well, um," Emily said.

"C'mon, fooood," Derek said. "And you can help me and Ed blow straw wrappers into Casey's hair."

Emily giggled guiltily. "Don't be mean," she said. "Look how cute they are."

"Cute," Derek said, shuddering. "Right. So, you coming?"

"If it's okay with your Dad," she said.

Turned out, George was in a great mood, and was more than happy to treat one more to pizza, so they all crammed into his car, and went to Bella Napoli's.

Casey and Sam sat practically in each others' laps of course. It was funny, since Casey had been worried all week about how Sam seemed a little "off" to her, a little distant. Emily guessed it must have been nerves, because he seemed pretty happy in Caseyland at the moment.

Derek shook his head at the mini spectacle. Sam and Casey weren't actually doing much more than holding hands, but Derek looked sickened all the same.

"Looks like we've lost him to the dark side," Derek said.

"Yep," Emily said, grinning. Poor Derek looked at them the way people looked at televised medical procedures, horrified, but unable to look away.

Meanwhile, Emily thought that George was cute. He pretended to ignore the couple, but, Emily, who recognized the behavior from her own Dad, knew that he was watching out of the corner of his eye, ready to spring if Sam made any kind of move.

"Come on, Derek," Emily said. "Stop making that face. You know you're happy for them."

"Ewww," Derek said.

Emily rolled her eyes. "What about you, Edwin?"

"Don't care," Edwin said. "Want food."

"See?" Derek said.

"He's twelve," Emily said. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm a guy," Derek said. "We don't like it when other guys lose their souls."

Sam overheard that one, and chuckled serenely as he scratched his head with his middle finger.

"You wanna see if that pinball machine in that back works?" Derek asked.

"Sure," Emily said. She noticed that Derek relaxed a great deal when the two lovebirds were out of his line of sight.

"Are you like this with every girl he takes out, or just with Casey?" Emily asked.

"You gotta admit, she's nuttier than most," Derek said.

"I really don't get you guys," Emily said, though she thought she did. She'd been trying to tell Casey forever, but Casey didn't believe in the sibling's right to be a pain in the ass. Knowing that, she felt like guilting Derek into letting up if she could.

"Is it that you don't think she's good enough for Sam?" Emily asked. "She is your stepsister, you know."

"Well aware," Derek said.

"So why are you being like this?" Emily asked. "She always talks about how she doesn't get you."

"And?" Derek asked. "I don't get her either. What's your point?"

"What do you think of her?"Emily asked.

Derek looked at her blankly, like he was waiting for the punchline.

"What do I think of her?" he asked. "I think that the food is ready."

""Wait," Emily said. "_What_?" Emily said to his back. "Der—that is just so _weird_."

But, for the rest of the night, she couldn't get him back onto the subject no matter what she did. The question nagged at her. And usually when something nagged at her, she talked it over with Casey. Obviously, she couldn't do that this time. Her every instinct screamed: Do not bring this up with Casey. She'd fall right back into the "why does he hate me?" thing and that would hurt, especially after the time it took to get her to stop doing that the first time around.

She was going to have to figure this one out herself.


	16. Chapter 16

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended. But, and I shouldn't admit this, the sonnets are mine.

Chapter Sixteen

Part One: Derek.

Derek found Linda at her locker and decided to bug her before class. He was going to come up from behind and grab her, but she turned around before he had the chance. He never was good at sneaking up on people.

When she turned around, he startled and jumped back a hair. She was wearing her glasses, which she hadn't worn since about grade seven, so he was taken aback. Surprised. Pleasantly so. But Linda took it the wrong way.

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "I lost one of my contacts, so I gotta wear these for a couple days. Gimme a break. I've already heard all the jokes."

"I didn't say anything," Derek said.

"You were thinking it," she said.

"I was thinking about how hot you look," he said, moving a little closer and leaning against the locker next to hers. He meant it. It wasn't like she was wearing cokebottles. She had on some small black rectangular frames, the kind with designer initials on the side. And she _was_ hot. She might even have been hot with the cokebottles.

"Oh, what-_ever_," Linda said. "Such a politician you're gonna make."

"Sure," Derek said. "'Cause you don't know you're hot or anything."

"All I know is that I look like a librarian," Linda said.

Derek fanned his face a little, making her laugh. "Oh my God."

"Oh yeah? Got a thing for librarians?" Linda said, gathering her hair into a bun and sticking a pencil through it. "You like that?"

"My books are all overdue, you know," Derek said. "And I routinely make a lot of noise."

She reached into her locker, going after her backpack which was hanging on the hook in there. She pulled out a small plastic ruler with what looked like The Powerpuff Girls on it. She brandished it at him.

"If you pull a rubber stamp out of that bag, I'll be yours forever," Derek deadpanned.

"Sorry, no rubber stamp," she said. "I'll put it on my shopping list."

"And maybe you can come over later and tell me all about the Dewey Decimal System," Derek said.

He felt a hand on his back and turned around.

"The Dewey Decimal System?" Sam asked. "Do I _wanna_ know what you're talking about?"

"No," Derek said. "You really don't." He didn't acknowledge Casey, who was next to Sam.

Linda came around, greeting Casey properly (he thought she was trying to teach him by example or something. She should really have known better.).

Linda complimented Casey on something or other and Casey complimented Linda's glasses.

"Thanks," Linda said. "But I feel so --."

"_Daria_," Sam said, putting a hand over his heart. He spelled out the name quickly with the other hand. Got as far as D-A-R- before Derek got the idea.

"I know," Derek said. "Right?"

"Quit it," Linda said. "_¡Carajo!_" That was one of the few Spanish words Derek knew. A couple of weeks back, Derek, always happy to build his vocabulary, had had Linda spell it out for him, then had Sam write it out phonetically.

Linda smacked Sam on the arm with the ruler, then loaned it to Casey when she asked for it. Casey gave Sam a couple of whacks as Sam acted like he really enjoyed it.

"Oh yeah," Sam said. "Like that. Little harder."

"Ew!" Casey said, dropping the ruler, then hurriedly picking it up. She _blushed_. He would never get used to all the different ways that Casey could be dorky.

He laughed. It was sorta cute.

"Shut up, Derek," Casey said.

"-- upset that he didn't get hit, too," Linda said.

"Well," Derek said, not missing a beat, even though he felt his own face get a little hot. "Maybe if I told you that I _always_ reshelve books in the wrong place."

"Stop with the librarian thing, already!" Linda said, giving him a little shove.

"Hey," Derek said, pouting.

"What _now_??"

"No ruler?" he said. "Sam got hit with the ruler."

Casey said something about a cinderblock. Probably about hitting Derek with it.

"Are you still here?" Derek asked. "You might wanna run along before you're late for class and flunk out and end up selling a kidney for the price of Kraft Dinner."

"That sounds more like your future than mine," Casey said.

"Nah," Derek said. "I have a bright future as a...what was it? A man-ho?"

Casey flicked her eyes over him and said, "Please, that scrawny ass wouldn't buy Top Ramen." Then she turned to leave.

"Where are you –?" Derek said, then noticed everyone else moving up and down the halls too. "Oh."

Linda smirked and shook her head at him as she walked away.

He didn't even know where Sam went.

Part Two: Sam.

_See me after class_. Four words that never failed to put a knot into Sam's stomach. The sticky note almost negated the A he'd gotten on the sonnet assignment. It took him a couple of seconds to even notice the A; he'd been too busy wondering what he'd done.

"Why do you look so worried?" Sam's English teacher, Ms. Parkinson, asked after the rest of the class headed to lunch.

Sam shrugged, not having anything to say to that.

"Well," Ms. Parkinson said. "You can go ahead and relax a little. This is nothing bad."

Sam wanted to be the judge of that. "Okay," he said.

When Sam didn't sit down, she continued. "I really enjoyed your sonnet."

"Thanks?"

"And I was wondering if you would like to submit it to the literary magazine for this quarter," she said.

"We have a literary magazine?"

"Yeah, contrary to popular belief, we do," she said. "I'm hoping that drumming up submissions would raise its profile a little bit. So, what do you say?"

_Run_, Sam thought. _Run screaming into the night. They won't think to look for you in Toronto. _

"Um," Sam said. "I'd really rather not do that, if that's okay."

"Really?" she asked. "Why?"

"I'm not really a poetry person," Sam said.

"This looks pretty poetic to me," Ms. Parkinson said. "Why not show it off?"

"Um," Sam said.

"If you're afraid of your friends giving you a hard time, you don't have to tell any of them," she said. "I doubt that they'd find it on their own."

"'I'd prefer not to,'" Sam said.

Ms. Parkinson laughed. "You actually did your summer reading. I could die right now. But that's not enough to distract me."

_Damn_, he thought.

"I want you to think about the lit. mag. Don't discount it right off the bat," she said. "But I have one more thing to ask of you."

He stopped himself just short of saying "What _now_?"

"I want to use this as an example for the class," she said. Then, before he could say anything: " I just want to read it to the class on Wednesday."

"Oh God no," he muttered.

He was opening his mouth to say no again when she said: "No one needs to know that it's yours. I can take your name off of it. So what do you say?"

Sam said nothing.

"I really think that it's too good to keep hidden," she said.

"No," he said.

"You know," she said. "I just don't get you kids. You're so afraid of being good at things and have people know about it."

_Is she serious?_ Sam wondered.

"Are you really so afraid of what your friends think?" she asked.

"I'm a little more afraid of what my girlfriend will think," he said. His teacher's face gave him confirmation that he'd said that out loud.

"Oh," she said. What else was there to say?

"It was a huge mistake to write it," Sam said. "I kinda wanna forget that it exists."

"Guess I can't argue with that," she said.

He'd written the sonnet Sunday night in a burst of annoyance and frustration, after he'd spent the day volunteering with Casey at St. Anthony of Padua Nursing Home. She had this power over him that overruled any protest that he needed sleep or that he had homework to do.

"We're doing something good for someone else." Casey said. "Not to mention how great this will look on your university applications, Sam. You want to have a good job where you make a lot of money, so that when Derek inevitably tries to hustle you into lending him money, it won't be a hardship."

"He'll go after Edwin first," Sam said. "And then _you_. You're _family_."

"Nope," Casey said. "He'd come to you before he'd come to me. You _like_ him."

At the home, they did pretty much what he expected they were going to do. Sam fought the good fight at chess, got thoroughly creamed at cards.

A few people even seemed to find him entertaining. He tried to make his life seem interesting and they at least pretended that he managed it. He didn't even mind when they made fun of this supreme case of hat head he had going.

"You know, Sam," one old lady, Margie, said. "It wasn't that long ago that men wore hats everywhere."

"Yeah," an old man, Lou, said. "And Vitalis."

"Does anyone still use Vitalis?" Margie asked Sam.

"I don't really know what that is," Sam said.

"Good," Lou said.

"Hair grease," Margie said. "Don't use it."

Casey was her usual self, trying really hard to please. Sam kept wanting to tell her to sit down and take a breath, but if he had, it would've been a blatant case of "Do as I say, not as I do." Because he was just as nervous as she was.

Though she was fun to watch. He figured he needed to take this time and enjoy it, because it wasn't going to last. There was one couple in the home who'd been together for 75 years, and Casey had said something about how amazing that would be if she could be with someone for that long. Then, three old ladies looked at Sam and giggled like tweens. He agreed that it would be amazing, but he didn't think that it was going to happen with _her_ whether he wanted it to or not.

"What?" she asked when she caught him staring.

"What?" he said.

"What's going on?"

"Got my ass kicked at chess that last game," Sam said.

"Yeah, I think Bernie's a hustler," Casey said. "Gotta watch out for him."

"Otherwise all's cool," Sam said. "Why?"

"I dunno, you just had this look on your face..." Casey said.

Sam smiled, showing as many teeth as he could. And apparently that was the wrong answer.

"Sam," Casey said.

"What?" he asked.

"You know, when I brought up that look on your face, I wasn't trying to, like, _order_ you to smile or anything. I just wanted to know what you were thinking, if there was anything that you wanted to talk about," Casey said.

"Nope," Sam said.

"Because you know you can tell me anything," Casey said.

_Fat chance_, Sam thought. "Uh-huh," Sam said.

"What's that mean?"

"What's _what_ mean?" Sam asked. "'Uh-huh?' Usually means 'yes.'"

Casey growled in frustration and walked away to pick up someone's fuzzy pink cardigan from the linoleum.

Sam had been mostly brought up by women. He and his Dad barely treaded water in the estrogen sea. He knew better than to do what he was doing. He just couldn't stop himself.

It _would_ be best just to break it off with her. The only problem was that he really did like her too much for that.

He really liked spending time with her. He spent hours tutoring her in ASL and she spent hours trying to get him through English Lit, especially after he broke down and accepted her help with the Shakespeare. Not that either of them couldn't muddle through alone, mind you.

She was better at signing than she thought she was, even with the problems she was having with grammar.

"So do you think I might actually get this someday?" she asked him once in a while.

"What time is it now?" Sam usually said in response.

"Maybe Derek won't even make fun of me," Casey said that day, on their way to the home.

"Has he ever made fun of your signing?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer was no. Derek was far too surprised that she was working so hard at it to even _think_ of making fun of her. Even though she spelled too much and got the word order wrong sometimes.

And that was the problem right there. There she was, working her ass off with _Sam_, to impress _Derek_. And, as Derek's best friend, Sam knew that Derek was very much impressed.

Derek was Sam's best friend and he loved him, and none of the trouble Sam was having was anyone's fault, but sometimes he really wanted to kick Derek's ass. Irrational, but true. Sam went back and forth between being sure that he could cut the girl loose and then being just as sure that he couldn't.

Hearing Casey sing "Someone to Watch over Me," while some scary lady beat the crap out of an upright piano didn't help. He didn't know that she was a Gershwin fan. So that meant Sam would be pawing through his Mom's showtune collection to learn more; all it took to make music interesting was having Casey sing it.

_Dammit, stop that_, he told himself.

So, he went home and wrote what he wrote, an actual honest outpouring of his feelings. For that moment he didn't care how it came off. He counted syllables and made sure that it rhymed where it needed to and that was that.

Then Ms. Parkinson said stuff about wanting to make it public and his stomach hit the floor.

Even he didn't have that much of a death wish.

Part Three: Emily.

In English class every once in a while, Ms. Parkinson made them move their desks into a circle. There was that God-awful sound of the desks screeking against the floor, but people still seemed to drag out the process for as long as possible.

Sam grabbed a seat next to Casey, so Emily took Sam's usual spot near Derek.

"Sup," Derek said.

"Hey," she said. Emily smiled vaguely at him, then turned to greet Sheldon, who was sitting at her other side.

"Sup, Sheldon?"

"Not much," he said, avoiding eye contact. She wondered what the deal was with _that_.

It took a couple more minutes to get everyone settled in. Once Derek had his interpreter, Christine's attention, he signed something about being bored already and she threatened that he needed to pay attention or else.

Christine turned to Emily, having noticed her watching. "Hit him with your notebook," she signed. "I can't reach." She was all the way across the room, next to Casey, so that he could see her clearly.

"Don't even think about it," Derek said when he saw Emily roll a couple of papers up.

"Who me?" Emily asked.

"Don't think I won't fight back," Derek said, rolling up some paper of his own. Emily went with it and they fenced until the teacher turned around and caught them.

Derek put his makeshift sword behind his back and grinned at her. The picture of innocence, he was. Ms. Parkinson couldn't help but grin back and move on.

Ms. Parkinson perched on her desk.

"So," she said. "By and large I was really pleased with you guys' sonnets. A couple of you might have had slight rhythm issues, but the content overall is excellent. I picked out a couple to read today, and since _so few of you want to read them yourselves, _I shall be doing the reading. Which means that they're all going to be anonymous for now, too."

Emily looked over at Casey, whom she caught mid-eyeroll. She would like nothing more than to read _her _stuff in class, no doubt.

The deal was that Ms. Parkinson was going to read each, then "open the discussion." Which meant that they had to criticize each. She passed around copies of each poem which they were supposed to take notes on. There were groans.

She wasted no time. She read:** "**This Shakespeare dude is really not for me/It's worse when homework is involved in it./This day was just spent hoping I could flee/Alas! there is a grade riding on it...**"**

This was followed by a good amount of laughter.

Derek serenely doodled on his copy. Looked like a car with a the beginnings of a girl sitting on the hood.

"Somebody pulls a stunt like this every year," Ms. Parkinson said, when she was done reading. She tapped on Derek's desk to make sure he was paying attention. "This is the first time someone got the rhythms mostly down. Which brings me back to iambic pentameter, people."

She droned on about that for a while before she decided to move on to the next poem, (Casey's. Was there ever any doubt?), and Sheldon, who'd gotten stuck with the left-handed desk even though he was not left handed, pushed his notebook over to Emily's conveniently adjacent desk and started a game of tic tac toe.

_Was that your sonnet?_ She wrote above the game. It couldn't hurt to ask.

_Please_, he wrote back. _I wish. Mine was about washing dishes._

Emily covered her giggle with a cough.

Part Four: Casey.

So Ms. Parkinson read her sonnet and it got an okay response, but whoever the wiseass was who wrote a whole sonnet complaining about having to write a sonnet stole her thunder a little.

_But whatever_, Casey thought. _Competition is a good thing_.

Sam took off as soon as the bell rang, telling her he'd see her in the cafeteria. He took off so fast that he left a folder behind.

His folder. Where Casey saw him put his sonnet when Ms. P. gave it back to him. The one that he wouldn't show her, even after she read _hers_ to him.

She picked it up in such a way that it fell open a little and thought _oops_. Then she rolled her eyes at herself and pawed though it until she found what she was looking for.

_He told me he got a B_, was her first thought. _Why would he lie about that? Weirdo._

Then she began to read as she walked:

I just don't know what I can do for her

I want to believe that I hold her eye

And I feel like I might just love her

But I know that she wants the other guy

She's not the type to lie to me I know

An honest girl who knows not what she does...

is making it too hard for me to go

though everything is not the way it was...

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, catching a swinging door just before it hit her in the face. She took that as karmic payback and stopped there. But it was enough.

_What the hell does this mean?_ Casey wondered. _Is this supposed to be about me?_

Needless to say, she wanted nothing more than to go straight to the cafeteria where he was probably saving her a seat, wave the page in his face and demand to know the meaning of it. But she had imagination enough to know how well that would go over.

She needed to think a while before she said anything, especially since she shouldn't have been reading it in the first place. That brought up her bad girlfriend points into the stratosphere. She was officially a snooping, nagging, dithering harpy so why not add cheating to the mix? What was one more thing?

She got her lunch and handed the folder off once she got to the table. She went to the soda machine, but saw him checking to see if everything was where he left it, which it was.

She sat down with him, like she usually did, and poked at her tepid taco salad until Sam asked what was going on.

"I stayed up too late last night," she lied. "Lizzie's hamster got out and I helped her corner it long enough to get it back into the cage. It's catching up to me, and this food isn't helping matters."

"Well, okay," Sam said. He offered her some of his sandwich, but she declined, forcing a little of the meat and cheese down.

Part Five: Derek.

Derek was nose deep in some web site about urban legends and having a pretty good time when Casey came barging into his room and standing behind the desk, waiting for him to acknowledge her. Usually, this type of thing turned into a game of how long he could ignore her before she either blurted out whatever the hell it was she wanted, or, preferably, took off to bother someone else.

So he started to go about his business, but then he noticed that she looked ready to cry. It suddenly became harder to follow the story of the woman with the spiders in her hair, though Derek certainly gave it his best shot.

Casey hugged herself as she stood there.

_Oh, for God's sake,_ Derek thought. He reached over and hit the light.

"What is it?" he said.

She said something that might have been "Forget it" but he couldn't tell for sure. Her mouth twisted up a little. One more thing that he just couldn't stand to look at. She turned to leave.

"Oh come on," Derek said. "Since when do you give up that easily?" He could have kicked himself as she immediately turned back into the room and sat on his bed all the while babbling incoherently. He didn't feel too bad. He was pretty sure that _no one_ would have understood.

He kept a safe distance from her, afraid that she'd get all huggy. She was pushing it by sitting on his bed with the waterworks on full blast; hugging he just could not deal with.

He waited a few minutes until she started to calm down. He stared very intently on the carpet in front of him; he couldn't look directly at her while she cried.

"Casey," he said. She looked up.

"Better?"

She nodded.

"Okay," Derek said. "So can I have that again? Sam did something or other?"

"You care?" she asked.

"There's nothing to do on the Internet," he deadpanned. That got a little smile out of her.

"You're Sam's best friend," Casey said.

"Yep."

"He tells you stuff," she said.

"Uh-oh," Derek said.

"Derek, this is really serious, okay?" Casey said. He believed her. Not that she didn't get worked up over the littlest things, because she did. But he was getting to the point where he could tell when she was crying over something stupid and when it was serious. It seemed serious.

"Why?"

She told him about how she found Sam's poem and what it was about, and how she couldn't stop thinking about it. Derek half wanted to make some joke about what curiosity did to cats and why it was she thought she was so much better than the average alley cat, but she had less sense of humor than usual at that moment.

"Does he think I'm cheating on him?" she asked.

"Are you?" Derek asked. She hit him with a pillow. "Kidding!"

"You are such a jerk," she said, getting up to leave again.

"How do you know it's about you?" he asked.

"Well," Casey said. "Did his last girlfriend cheat on him?"

"He really didn't have one before..." Derek said. _That was a stupid thing to say_, he berated himself.

"Who else could it be about then?" she asked.

Derek thought fast. "Maybe he made it up?"

She looked skeptical.

"Sam told me what you told him about Shakespeare and how the sonnets were written half to some dude and half to some woman and then a few after the dude got together with the woman, screwing over Shakespeare," Derek said.

"That was only one theory," Casey said.

"Okay," Derek said. "But maybe he just ran with that?"

"I..." she began. "Dunno."

Derek snorted.

"Shut up," Casey said.

"Sure," Derek said. "Cut into a guy's do-nothing-time wanting to talk about relationships, then tell him to shut up. I mean, hello? Do I look like_ Emily_ to you? Why are you asking me this crap?"

"Emily wasn't picking up her phone," Casey said. "And you know Sam better than she does."

"Uh-huh," Derek said. "Is there a reason you're still on my bed?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Guess not," she said. She went in for the hug, but he sidestepped her and patted her on the head.

"Now run along, Crazy McDonald," Derek said.

"Ass," she said, obviously feeling better for the moment.

After she left, he sat down again and put his head on his desk, not knowing how the hell he was going to talk to Sam about this. Because now, he _needed_ to know what was in Sam's head.

A/N: Okay, so sorry for those dorky sonnet fragments. I never said I was a poet. Also, do you even need to guess who wrote the sonnet that Ms. P. read first?


	17. Chapter 17

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Seventeen

Part One: Lizzie.

Edwin was Marti's go to guy when it came to tea parties and stuff. It was mostly because he had a different voice that he used for all of her animals and he remembered which voice went with which animal. Plus, his lips almost never moved when he did the voices.

Lizzie wasn't jealous though; Marti was starting to appreciate Lizzie's own powers of imagination and how those powers could be used to mess with Edwin.

"Chuck is bored," Marti said, holding up her stuffed cougar.

"Yeah, bored," Edwin agreed, providing Chuck's voice, complete with a New York accent. Marti caught Lizzie's eye.

"What's Chuck gonna do?" Marti asked.

"I think he's always wanted to be a reporter," Lizzie mused.

"Yeah," Marti said.

"Naaaaw," Edwin said, shooting Lizzie a look. "You don't wanna be a reporter, do you Chuck?"

"Why not?" Lizzie asked.

"He'd have to take off his bling," Edwin said. He made Chuck turn to face him in surprise. "Sorry, dude, but you'd need to put on a tie and everything." Chuck clutched his bling, which in this case, was a rhinestone collar that Marti made herself.

"I ain't giving up my bling," Chuck said.

"Bling stays," Marti said

"Chuck, you should never say 'bling'" Lizzie said, holding back a giggle.

Chuck got up in Lizzie's face. "You got a problem with the way I say 'bling'?"

"Oooh," Marti sing-songed.

"Seems to be kind of a hard word for you," Lizzie said giggling openly.

"Whatcha tryin' to say, Lizzie?" Chuck asked.

"Your lips move too much when you say 'bling,'" Casey said, coming in from the kitchen. She flopped down on the couch with a pudding cup in one hand and a book of Emily Dickinson poems in the other.

"Well," Chuck said. "Who used _your_ litterbox?"

"Who _didn't_" Casey said.

"Want me to scratch him for you?" Chuck asked, rubbing his head against her knee. "Hide under the table? Wait till he's walkin by? Slice his ankles to ribbons?"

Casey looked at Edwin like he'd finally gone off the deep end.

"What?" Edwin said. "Don't look at me; _I _didn't say it." He made Chuck lick his paws and wash his face a little, which finally got a smile out of Casey.

"Yo, finally," Chuck said, turning to Edwin. "Thought we were gonna have to break into the catnip."

"I know, right?" Edwin said.

"I mean I don't mind sharing my catnip, but you know what it does to me," Chuck said.

"You're crazy," Casey said. "You know that right?"

"Me or him?" Edwin asked, pointing from himself to the stuffed cougar and back again.

"Both of you," she said.

"Works for me," Edwin said. Chuck nodded.

Casey opened her book and started reading it, but Chuck tried to wiggle under it, the way a cat or a dog would. Lizzie knew Casey well enough to know that she was about two seconds away from breaking up. She did a pretty good job of looking like all she wanted to do was read her book in peace, but she'd been having kind of an iffy couple of days, and needed a laugh.

"Meow?" Chuck said and Casey finally started to chuckle.

"I thought you were supposed to be a cougar," she said.

"Oh yeah," Chuck said. "Um...Grr...and stuff like that; you know what I'm sayin?"

"'You know what I'm sayin'?'" Casey imitated, still laughing.

Before Edwin could say anything, Derek came in through the front door.

Casey looked up, and seeing who it was, went back to her book. Derek scanned the room quickly then turned to Edwin and signed "Safe?"

Edwin shook his head the tiniest bit, and Casey looked up just in time to see Derek lean over her and steal her pudding cup. The two of them wrestled over it for a minute or two and Lizzie thought that it was a lucky thing that Casey hadn't opened it yet. It would have been all over the couch in no time. And the rug. And their hair.

Lizzie turned to Edwin and Marti and the two of them shrugged at her. The three of them gathered up all of Marti's stuffed animals and tea set stuff and left Derek and Casey alone. Neither seemed to notice.

"How long before they notice we left?" Edwin signed once they got to Marti's room and put their armloads of stuff down. Lizzie never knew when he was going to sign to her, but she worked really hard to be ready for when he did.

"Tomorrow, they'll notice," Lizzie signed.

Marti held up the pudding cup in triumph. Then, putting it down on her dresser, she signed, "No spoon, though. She's hitting him with it."

Lizzie laughed, then covered her mouth to stifle it. Seemed wrong to break the silence in the room somehow.

Marti laughed at her. "You're silly."

"Jeez, Lizzie," Edwin said. "Whatever you do, don't laugh in your own house or anything."

"Hey, no making fun of me," Lizzie said.

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie," Edwin said, putting his arm around her. "When will you learn what it means to be a family?"

"Mockery?"

"Shyeah?"Edwin said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Lizzie turned to Marti, who nodded in agreement.

"But I mean it, though," Edwin said, taking his arm away. "No laughing. This is a no funny zone."

Lizzie snickered.

"Didn't I just say not to laugh?" Edwin asked. Marti giggled.

"What is this world coming to, Chuck?" Edwin asked, picking the cougar up once again. Chuck didn't know.

Part Two: Derek.

Derek did not think that he would find "mediator for two crazy people" anywhere in his job description.

First, at lunch Sam sat with them for the second day in a row. That meant Casey was pissed. Then, after school, he acted all antsy and weird, and Derek thought, _Casey, what did you say to him?_

"Spit it out," Derek said, when he couldn't take it anymore.

When Sam looked reluctant, Derek said "Okay, don't," and he pretended to be interested in something in his History book.

_As if_, Derek thought. But it worked. Sam tapped him.

"The other day I left this folder behind in class," Sam signed.

"Was all your homework in it?" Ralph signed. "I hate that. The teachers never believe you either."

They both stared at Ralph, who smiled.

"Anyway," Sam signed. "Casey picked it up and brought it to me."

"Email from another girl?" Ralph signed.

Derek rolled his eyes and waited for the rest of the story, though he knew exactly what Sam was going to say. He raised his eyebrows and waited for Sam to continue.

Sam rubbed his forehead. "Did she look in there or what?" he signed.

"You asking me?" Derek signed.

"Come on," Sam signed. "Is she mad?"

"Mad at what?" Derek signed. "Why be mad?"

Even he had to admit he was laying it on a little thick. Even Ralph, who had no idea what was actually going on, knew Derek was full of it. Derek could tell.

Sam watched him expectantly and Ralph looked from one to the other, hoping for an explanation. Derek heaved a sigh, hoping to use it to convey how much he did not want to be involved in any of this.

"Not mad," Derek signed. "Scared."

"Are either of you assholes going to tell me what you're talking about?" Ralph signed.

"Shit," Sam said. Then he gave Ralph the quickest of explanations, telling him about the sonnet he wrote and how he knew when Casey brought it to him that she'd read it.

"Dude," Ralph said, shaking his head. "You're an idiot."

Sam nodded.

"So what was in this poem?" Ralph asked.

"Good question," Derek said.

"What did she tell you?" Sam asked.

"You think she's cheating on you," Derek signed. "The brother handbook says I should kick your ass now."

"Why aren't you?" Sam signed.

"I'm not much for rules," Derek signed. He tried to make that last comment seem kind of offhand, but he was in some territory that he would not like to own real estate in. There was the question of who he would be loyal to. The obvious answer would be to side with family, but really, who was his family?

Sam and Ralph had hung with Derek since grade one when he was the alien kid who everyone said talked funny. Not only did they hang with him, they asked their folks for ASL classes. Was he really supposed to be disloyal to someone who did that for him? By that reasoning, Sam was his family just as much as Casey was. Same with Ralph. Which meant that there was no leeway and no right answer.

"I can't be in this," Derek signed finally.

"What?" Sam said.

"I mean it," Derek said. "I can't do anything here. She's supposed to be my sister, and you are my best friend. And no matter what I say, I'm fucked. I can't side with anyone."

"Side with her," Sam said. "I'm an idiot."

"You're _both_ idiots," Derek said. "But I'm still not in this."

Sam nodded. Ralph said something to Sam that Derek didn't get, but it didn't really matter. Derek had more important things on his mind. Like caving. In record time, too.

"She's not cheating on you," Derek signed. "She wouldn't. You know that right?"

Sam nodded.

"I told her that you made the whole thing up," Derek said. "Stop looking so guilty and maybe she'll buy it."

"You think?" Sam asked. He wanted to be convinced.

"Dude," Derek said. "This is _Casey_; she can't keep a thought in her head for five minutes before it comes flying out of her mouth so if she doesn't explode on you in the next day or so, you're good."

Sam seemed to buy that, for the moment, and Ralph was able to wangle a change of subject, getting Sam interested in an hour or so of _Grand Theft Auto 3 _before he had to go to work.

Derek came home to see Edwin trying his damnedest to bring laughter to the humorless. Derek looked deep within himself and found the courage and generosity that was necessary to relieve his poor hardworking brother. He did this by trying to steal back the last vanilla pudding which he thought he'd hidden better than that. He thought of it as multitasking.

Casey bared her teeth at him. There might have even been growling before she pounced on him. Usually, when a girl tried to wrestle him, he let them win. Because no one in their right mind would fight back, but this, he told himself, wasn't a girl. It was _Casey_. And, as such, she fought pretty damn hard. Within five minutes, she'd bopped him a good one with the remote, and with the spoon.

Then both of them rolled off the couch and onto the floor which knocked the wind out of Derek. He gasped for air as Casey freaked out above him. By the time he finally got his breath back, Casey had had her hand on his forehead, tilting his head back. It took him a minute to realize that she'd been thinking about CPR. He took a few breaths and scrambled backward and away from her.

"Where'd the damn pudding go?" he finally said. There was more teeth-baring and she hit him with a throw pillow. Repeatedly. He got it away from her and realized that she'd been ranting the whole time. He caught: "--jerk, and I thought I killed —"

"Casey," he said.

"—not funny—" she said, getting up.

"Casey," he said, getting to his feet, too.

"You sure you didn't crack a rib or anything?" Casey said.

"Don'tcha think I'd mention that?" Derek asked. Then her hands were on him and she was ordering him to take a deep breath, but he was ticklish and she didn't much appreciate his laughter.

"—coughing up blood, don't come crying—" she said stomping off. He was able to fill in the blanks pretty easily.

_Maybe there're some popsicles left in the freezer_, he thought. His Dad always kept some in a box that used to hold frozen broccoli, like _that_ was going to fool anyone.

His Dad was working a little later than usual and Nora had to run some errands so it was Casey's job to cook that night. Derek decided to test the waters by swiping some celery that she was chopping. She threatened him with the knife.

_She's back to normal_, he thought. She'd been walking around morosely (_see? I remember stuff from the vocab list,_ Derek thought,) for days. Now she was bopping her head as she chopped celery and fennel and brandishing the knife at him like she was supposed to.

_Sam called and grovelled_, he thought. But he found out that that wasn't the case when Sam showed up at the door after dinner.

Derek nodded a greeting.

"She here?" Sam signed. "She won't answer her phone."

Derek rolled his eyes. _Here we go again_, he thought.

"Nobody ever comes to see _me_ anymore," Derek signed. Then he grabbed Sam by the back of the neck and half led, half shoved Sam upstairs to Casey's door. Her door was open a little, so Derek knocked on it and shoved Sam in. Then he went downstairs to take some leftovers off the family's hands. His work was never done and not really appreciated. Good thing he wasn't bitter.

Part Three: Casey.

Casey was messing around on the computer when there was an impatient knock on the door. Before she could say anything, Sam stumbled in. Looked like he'd been pushed.

"Oof," Sam said, just barely keeping his footing.

"Hey," Casey said.

"Hi?" Sam said.

"Have a seat, I guess," Casey said.

"I've been trying to call you," he said.

"Yep," Casey said. "I thought I needed some time, but I think it's a good thing that you're here now."

Sam thought about that for a few seconds. "Should I be happy or afraid?"

Casey shrugged. "I dunno," she said.

"Okay," Sam said. There was another long pause, and Casey could hear Sam's foot tapping.

"So listen," Sam continued. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry you wrote the thing or sorry that I read it?" Casey said. Before he could answer she said. "It was my own fault for reading it. I shouldn't have done that. But obviously it means that we have stuff to talk about. And Derek tried to tell me that you made it up, but I don't buy that. Because if you did make it up, you'd have had no problem showing it to me."

"Yeah I would've," Sam said.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you made it up, Sam," Casey said. "You've been weird for weeks. Sometimes you're all over me and then you go off into outer space, and I try not to ask what you're thinking, but then it pops out of my mouth and you get annoyed and I back off."

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "About everything."

"So you really did think I was in love with somebody else this whole time?" Casey asked.

"I didn't say that," Sam said.

"So what did you say?"

"That I was sorry," he said.

"About..."

"Upsetting you," he said. "I don't mean to."

"Well that's just too bad, 'cause I'm good and upset," Casey said. "There was no way this was not going to upset me, so while I'm already upset, why don't you tell me who it is I'm supposed to be cheating on you with?" Casey had to remind herself that they were in the middle of a house full of people, but even so, it was a fight to keep her voice down.

"I didn't say that you were cheating—" Sam said.

"Nope, just that I _wanted_ to," Casey said. "Did you think that that makes me feel _better_?"

"Casey."

"Tell me what you were thinking," Casey said. Then Sam did one of the few things that could have infuriated her more. He said nothing.

"I said. Tell me. What. You. Were. Thinking," Casey said.

Sam's face started to really turn red. "You say that like you really wanna know."

"Yeah, 'cause I say what's on my mind," Casey said. "You should look into that sometime."

"Oh really," Sam said. "That's what you want?"

"That's what I've been saying," Casey said. _Uh-oh,_ she thought. She would never have imagined him capable of looking so angry, but there was no turning back.

"Okay, fine," Sam said. "Since I have to spell it out for you..." he said. He apparently meant that literally, as he held out his right hand and spelled: "D-E-R-E-K."


	18. Chapter 18

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek, Clerks,_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Eighteen

Part One: Derek.

Derek was making himself some chocolate milk when he saw Sam come down the stairs and out the door. Just like that. Without a word to anyone.

_Shit_, Derek thought and took off after him, but got as far as the stoop before he remembered that he didn't have shoes on. And it was freezing out, so best friend or no best friend, he would never catch him.

"Sam!" Derek tried. It might or might not have carried, but Sam kept walking, regardless.

_Time for plan B_, he thought, turning around and going inside. He went upstairs to find Nora knocking on Casey's closed, possibly locked door presumably trying to reason with her. Marti stood in her doorway, all eyes, watching the spectacle. Ed and Lizzie, too for that matter. It was like a gathering of the anime character council.

"What's the matter, Smarti?" Derek signed, crouching down.

"Casey and Sammy yelled. A lot,"she signed. She had to pull her finger out of her mouth to answer him. She'd been munching on her nails a little. He pulled her hands away from her face before she got snacky again.

Derek looked up at Edwin for more of an explanation.

"She threw him out," Edwin signed.

"Are you serious?" Derek signed.

His Dad showed up after a minute with the key which he handed to Nora. Nora, for reasons that Derek couldn't fathom, pocketed it and continued trying to sweet talk the door open.

Derek turned to Edwin and signed, "What's going on in there? Can you hear anything?"

"Just crying," Edwin signed.

"Throwing?" Derek signed. "Banging?"

Edwin shook his head. Derek did not like the relative lack of drama at all. It just wasn't Casey. His knees seemed to want to know why he was still crouching in that position, so he stood up, leaned against his door, and looked at his Dad and Nora.

"—the key, Nora," Dad said.

Nora shook her head and murmured something to the door. Finally, Nora pulled back a little and said. "You know I have the key, right Casey?"

Casey must have said something back, because Nora said, "Because I don't want to use it...just let me in, okay, baby?" Nora started waving people away, so that it didn't look like everyone was watching and the door opened a crack. Derek felt himself being dragged downstairs.

"Sit," Dad signed, once they reached the kitchen.

Derek gave him his best "are you nuts" face.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy," Dad said. "Park it." Dad went to a cabinet and pulled out a pack of cookies, the gooey kind that's chocolate with a little cookie thrown in. He put them on the table and went for the milk. It really didn't take much else to get Derek to do something.

Because he couldn't stop himself, he pulled out his phone and sent Sam a "What the Hell?" text, even though he knew that Sam was in no mood to get back to him.

"So what do you know about this?" Dad signed with a cookie in his mouth, and pointed to the ceiling.

"What?" Derek signed. "Is she screaming?"

Dad shook his head. "Did you see it coming?"

"No," Derek signed. "He went up to beg for forgiveness for whatever he did to piss her off and that was it." He had no plans to tell his Dad that he knew _exactly _what had pissed her off. That was a whole subject he didn't want to get into.

"That didn't work," Dad signed.

Derek shook his head.

"Why was she mad at him?" Dad signed.

"I look like I know how her mind works?" Derek signed.

"Thought Sam said something, maybe," Dad signed.

"Sam doesn't know which end is up," Derek signed. He glanced over at his phone on the table, not that he wouldn't have felt the buzz if it went off. No messages.

Part Two: Ralph.

Sam's name popped up on the caller ID and Ralph figured that it would be the usual "Don't forget your history book again, dumbass," call, so he picked up, ready to defend himself.

"Yo," he said.

"Hey," Sam said. And Ralph was instantly worried because the last time Sam sounded like that, someone had run over his cat.

"Okay, what happened?" Ralph asked.

Sam sighed. "I did sort of a stupid thing."

"Quit horning in on my territory, Ass," Ralph joked. It was a lame joke, but a lame joke was better than no joke at all.

"I went to Derek and Casey's," Sam said. "And I was going to apologize. And I did."

"And she wasn't having it?"

"Nope," Sam said. "But not just that. She started asking questions."

"And what did you tell her?"

"The truth," Sam said. Ralph groaned.

"Why would you do that?" Ralph asked.

"I wasn't going to," Sam said. "But I got pissed off and decided I didn't care anymore."

"That sucks," Ralph said. "So she dumped you."

"Told me to get out," Sam said. "And threw a shoe at me when I didn't move fast enough."

"Holy shit," Ralph said. "She threw a shoe at you?"

"Yep," Sam said, voice still full of squished family pet. "But she missed."

"What kind of shoe?"

There was a pause.

"Are you seriously asking me what kind of shoe she threw at my head?" Sam asked. "Like it matters?"

"It _so_ matters," Ralph said. "If it was a bunny slipper...well...okay, that would still be kind of scary. Big angry bunny, like, hurtling toward you."

"Jeez," Sam said, with the tiniest hint of a laugh.

"But if it was one of those really high heels?" Ralph said. "Forget it. If you're lucky it'd miss you and get _stuck in the wall_ and you'd see it wobbling there, like a knife. Like in _The Patriot_? That scene at the pub?"

There was the sound of Sam laughing completely against his will.

"Or what if it was a hiking boot?" Ralph said. "Like some _Tims_? Bounce off the wall and smack you in the face!"

"Dude, it was just a loafer or something," Sam said.

"That's_ it_?" Ralph said. "That sucks."

"You wanted her to impale me or a stiletto heel or something?"

"Would have been a better story," Ralph said. "Like when you tell people? It should be a stiletto."

Sam laughed some more. "You are such an asshole."

"Aw come on, dude, what would you do without me?" Ralph asked.

"I just have no idea," Sam said.

"So, what'd Derek say?" Ralph asked.

"I dunno," Sam said.

"What does that mean?"

"Looks like he just texted me too," Sam said. "Says 'What the Hell?'"

"And what are you gonna say back?"

"Nothing."

"And just like that I'm out of the loop again," Ralph said. "Wanna help me out, bro?"

"It's nothing," Sam said.

"Yeah," Ralph said. "Totally sounds like nothing. Did he go off on you for making Casey mad?"

"No, I don't think he knew what was going on," Sam said.

"What exactly did you say to her?"

"She asked me who I thought she was really in love with if not me," Sam said. "And I told her."

"And you told her..." Ralph said. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?" Sam asked.

"I barely read _books_, you expect me to read your _mind_?" Ralph said. "Do you realize that you never tell me shit? You just sorta expect me to know."

"Damn," Sam said. "Casey said the same thing, sorta. So, I guess I do that, huh?"

"Yeah," Ralph said.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "Seems to be my night for apologizing. And when Derek finds out what I said, no amount of sorry will put my face back in order, anyway."

"Why? Who's she in love with?"

Sam said nothing until Ralph caught up.

"No way," Ralph said. "She loves him back? Does he know?"

"So you knew about him?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I knew about _him_!" Ralph said. "Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"Then how did you not know about _her_?" Sam asked.

"She kinda scares me," Ralph said. "I didn't wanna say anything in case you got married or something."

Sam, thankfully, laughed again.

"So what happens now?" Ralph asked.

"I dunno," Sam said. "I'm thinking I'm screwed no matter what. He's gonna be pissed when he finds out."

"Why you gotta say stuff like that?" Ralph asked.

"It's true," Sam said.

"You're not screwed," Ralph said. "At the most, you might get your ass kicked a little, but that's it."

"That's comforting," Sam said.

"It's what I'm here for."

Part Three: Nora.

"What'd you find out?" George asked.

"Not a lot," Nora said, perching on the edge of the bed. "I really don't like that. Suddenly she's hiding stuff from me?"

"Sounds like a teenager to me," George said.

"No," Nora said. "We always used to talk about everything. She's always been comfortable telling me what's going on with her."

"And was there much going on with her before?" George asked.

"Not really," Nora admitted. "But I knew about every little thing. And now this is a _big_ thing and she's not talking."

George nodded.

"Why aren't you more concerned by this?" Nora asked.

"I didn't say I wasn't concerned," George said. "I'm just a little more used to dealing with the incommunicado."

"Really?" Nora said, skeptical.

"I'm also used to finding out what I need to know," George said. "And right now, maybe we don't need to know every detail."

"Oh come on," Nora said.

"Well, let's do it this way," George said. "What did you get out of her?"

"That she and Sam are, in her words, 'over,'" Nora said.

"Nothing we couldn't have figured out from the bits of flaming wreckage still floating around," George said.

"That's what I said," Nora told him. "She said something about how Sam didn't trust her, thought she'd dump him for someone else."

"Kid never struck me as the jealous type before," George said.

"Me neither," Nora said. "There's more to it than this, and I feel like I really need to know what the rest of the story is."

"Yep," George said, nodding. "Get used to that feeling."

Nora groaned. "Oh, my head."

"Get used to that, too," George said. "Right now, nobody's bleeding or puking or breaking things, so all we can do is go to bed."

"And what?" Nora asked. "Wait for the sound of broken glass?"

"Naw," George said. "The screaming comes before the glass breaking."

"That's not even a little comforting, Georgie," Nora said.

"Yeah, I know," George said, starting to massage her shoulders.

"Trying to get me off the subject?" Nora said.

"Is it working?" George said.

"Maybe," Nora said. "If you moved a little to the right?" George's hands found the knot in her back she'd been fighting with all day. She moaned, and he laughed.

"I really shouldn't let myself be distracted by this," Nora said. "Again."

"Why not?" George said. "Nothing you can do right now." He kneaded just a little harder and she started to come over to his point of view. He could be pretty persuasive when he wanted to be. And she did know that George was right, but it was hard for her to turn her brain off, sometimes. She not only wanted to wave her magic Mom wand and make everything better for Casey, but she was also absolutely dying to know what Sam could possibly have said to her to get her to throw him out. The concern beat the curiosity, but not by a wide margin.

Part Four: Casey.

The next morning Casey tried to pretend that nothing had happened the night before, but people were too busy walking on eggshells around her to appreciate it. Everyone gave her the big eyes and got out of her way. She really couldn't leave fast enough.

At school, she told herself, nobody would know about her Joan Crawford moment. At least not yet. She was able to labor under that delusion quite well until she got there.

There were more big eyes from Emily, who met Casey at their locker.

"Hey," Emily said, tentatively. "How you holding up?"

_She can't possibly know_, Casey thought.

"Why do you ask?" Casey said.

Emily stared her down. It took maybe five seconds. Casey wasn't exactly the hardest nut to crack.

"Okay, Sam and I broke up," Casey admitted. It was all she could do to keep herself from bursting into tears in the middle of the hallway.

"I know," Emily said.

"You _know_?" Casey asked. "How—"

"Derek texted me," Emily explained. "He also said you wouldn't talk to him and asked me to find out what I could."

"Right," Casey said. "Aren't you supposed to warn me that anything I say can be held in evidence and used against me?"

"Casey," Emily said. "He's _worried_."

"Oh please," Casey said. "Why would he care?" This was a bluff on Casey's part. She knew that Derek _hated_ not knowing what was going on and could guess that if he'd resorted to bringing Emily into this, that _Sam_ wouldn't talk to him, either. If Sam had been talking to him, he wouldn't be so eager to ask her questions, he'd know more than he'd ever need to.

"Yeah, know what?" Emily said. "I'm just going to pretend that you didn't say that, because it makes you sound like an ass."

"So I'm an ass," Casey said.

"Admitting it is the first step to recovery," Emily said.

"What?" Casey asked. Did Emily really think this was a good time to joke around?

"Come on, Casey," Emily said. "He lives to bug you, but you know that he cares, and I just hope you understand just how bad it is that Derek, who lives in the room next to yours, has to ask _me_ how you're doing."

"I'm fine," Casey said.

"You are _not_," Emily said.

"I will be," Casey said.

"Are you gonna talk to Paul?" Emily asked.

"I have an appointment with him today anyway," Casey said. Not that she knew what to tell him, but maybe if she was lucky, he'd just let her cry without thinking she was crazy. Y_eah, that'll happen_, she thought. _You just keep telling yourself that. Everyone thinks you're crazy. Your own boyfriend—ex boyfriend—dumped you because he thought that you had the hots for your stepbrother. _

The worst part was that the asshole really and truly seemed to believe it. It had hurt him to say it, even Casey knew that, and her first reaction had been total disbelief.

He'd spelled out Derek's name and she'd said, "What?"

"Do you want me to repeat that?" he'd asked.

"Are you kidding me?" she'd asked. "Are you out of your damn MIND?"

"I _was_," he said. "I think I'm better now."

"Get out," she said.

"Okay," he said.

"Get _out_," she said. He'd nodded and turned to leave and that was when she picked up the first shoe that her hand touched, and threw it at him.

Now, twelve hours and change later, she still had "I _was_. I think I'm better now," running in a constant loop in her head.

Then there was Derek, who was, for a change, completely innocent. That didn't mean that she could look him in the eye. She physically could not do it. She just hoped that Sam learned how to lie before Derek got to him, because part of her inability to look at him came from imagining his reaction to what Sam might say.

There would be no way in the world that she would be able to convince Derek that it wasn't true. He would definitely believe Sam over her, and he'd be disgusted and unwilling to listen to reason. And for that, she managed to work up a little more hate for Sam.

Later, when the three of them had English together, all the desks were in a circle again, and there had been a game of musical chairs, with Casey trying to avoid both Derek and Sam. Sam was easy, since he was obviously trying to avoid her too, but Derek managed to plunk down next to her at the exact moment that Ms. P. came in, so that she couldn't get up and get someone to switch with her without being hassled, so she stayed where she was.

During the lecture, while he looked like he was paying attention to Christine while she interpreted what Ms. P. said, he managed to slide his notebook over so that she could see that it said, _Talk to me. _

She looked away. He nudged her with his elbow, and she still tried to ignore him, but when she turned back, she saw that he had underlined it.

He was slick, though; she had to give him that. He even answered questions when called on, even though Casey, since she was right next to him saw that his jaw was getting tighter and tighter the more she tried to ignore him. That made her nervous, and she ended up devoting the rest of the class to planning her escape. She would have drawn diagrams if Derek hadn't been close enough to see her notes.

Finally the bell rang and the kid who sat on her other side got up right away, the way he always did and she took the opportunity to squeeze past and accidentally on purpose nudge her desk into Derek's way to give herself an extra couple of minutes. It didn't work.

"Casey!" Derek said. "Just the person I wanted to see." He put an arm around her and marched her down the hall.

For probably the millionth time, she wondered who the hell this kid thought he was. She wiggled free and knocked him against a wall.

"If you ever do that again," she said teeth clenched. "You will lose that arm."

He looked down at her hand which currently had a good handful of his shirt, then back up to her face in what looked like disbelief.

Some random guy said "Whoa, girl."

"Mraaooowwrrr, hissss," said another.

Casey whipped around and said, "Don't you have someplace to be?"

"Oooh," the first guy said. "Feisty."

"Yeah, _that's_ original, pig," Casey said. She turned to the other one. "And what about you, you gonna _meow_ again?"

They turned to leave.

"That's right," Casey said. "I'm sure there's some cold mac and cheese with your name on it."

It took her a second to realize that she still had a fistful of shirt with a Derek attached to it. She let go of it and turned back to find Derek looking at her, eyes wide, teeth firmly embedded in his bottom lip.

His eyes were watering a little.

"Oh, God," she said.

"Bwaahaaahaaaaaaa!" he laughed, proving exactly how bad she was at reading people. She punched him high up on one arm and took off, leaving him standing there.

"Oww," he said, still laughing.

He caught up to her a little before she reached the cafeteria line.

"Casey, come on," he said. "You gotta deal with me sometime."

She kept her back to him.

"I'm just gonna keep bugging you until you do," he said. She kept trying to ignore him, through repeated attempts on his part to get a rise out of her. He poked her arms, tugged at her hair, and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him preparing to give her a wet willie.

"I will rip that finger off and stuff it up your nose," Casey said. He put his hands into his pockets.

"I'm sure it'll be comfortable there, anyway," she muttered.

"What?"

"Your finger," she repeated. "practically lives up your nose anyway."

A few people turned to look at both of them after she said that.

"Something you don't hear everyday, huh?" Derek said to them.

"This creep bothering you, Casey?" one guy on the line said.

"Yes," Casey said. She had to crane her neck up to look him in the eye. "As a matter of fact he is."

"Derek," the guy said, mock sternly. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Yes, Joey," Derek said.

"Play nice," Joey said.

"I always do," Derek said.

"Good," Joey said, patting Casey on the head and facing front again.

"Gawd! Is there anybody you _don't_ know?" Casey asked.

"There might be one or two kids," Derek said. "Maybe."

"Well, now's your chance," Casey said. "You should go get to know some new people."

"Nice try," he said.

"Why are you here? Why not just leave me alone?" Casey asked. "I'm not having a good week and I really don't appreciate you making fun of me while I'm already miserable." She felt her eyes start to fill again. Seemed like she was always on a hair trigger lately.

"Oh so now you have nothing to say?" Casey asked. "That's a first."

He grabbed two trays giving her one, and nudging her down the line.

"I don't even know what I'm doing here," Casey said. "I'm so not hungry."

"Get some food and stop being a drama queen," Derek said, grabbing her arm so that she couldn't get off the line.

"Stop calling me a drama queen," Casey said. "I'm upset. I have every right to be upset. I'm sorry you don't approve."

"You're forgiven," Derek said, grabbing a plate with what looked like PB&J on white bread and putting it onto her tray. He grabbed one for himself, too.

By the time she got to the register, she looked down at her tray and noticed more food on it then she could eat in a day. He reached over her and paid for it, then, before she could say anything, marched her over to her table.

Emily pulled out a chair for her as she put her tray down, and when she sat down, Emily leaned over and gave her a little squeeze. Derek sat down across from them.

Casey guessed that she wasn't supposed to notice Emily turning to Derek and signing "Anything?" nor was she supposed to see Derek sign "No."

Casey started working on the cup of soup Derek made her get. It was gone quickly, as was the sandwich, and the most of the fruit cup. Then she managed a couple of cookies.

"She's not too hungry," Derek told Emily.

"You really do love it when I threaten bodily harm don't you?" Casey said, gesturing with a sporkful of canned peach.

"Yeah, I really do," he said. He pointed back to her tray. "Drink your milk."

Emily giggled at that.

"What?" Derek said.

Emily shook her head, still smiling. Casey had an idea of what she was thinking. Derek was being George-like, and the realization of that almost made even Casey smile for a second.

In between bites of her own lunch, Emily tried to talk about random stuff like her little brother Dimi's ongoing quest to be the next Mariano Rivera.

Derek made a little sound of disgust. "Blasphemy," he said.

"Why?" Casey asked. "Who's that?"

"Pitcher for the Yankees," Emily explained.

"Is that baseball?" Casey asked, playing the teeniest bit dumb for Derek's benefit. "I don't get it. What's the problem with that?"

Derek groaned.

"I think that Derek has a problem with my little brother idolizing a Yankee and not a Blue Jay, for example," Emily explained.

"The Yankees," Casey said, thinking it over. "Is that the team with the cute one?"

Derek groaned again.

"Yeah," Emily said. "Derek Jeter?"

"I will not be party to this conversation any longer," Derek said, covering his eyes dramatically.

Emily high-fived Casey.

"Good to see you feeling a little better," she said, which just served to remind Casey why she was in such a rotten mood in the first place.

"Thanks, Em," she said. She managed a little grimace of a smile.

Emily caught it and was about to say something, when they saw Ralph coming toward their table. After he exchanged the customary 'sups with everyone, he tapped Derek to get his attention.

Derek peeked through his fingers, and seeing Ralph said, "Tell me they're off the subject of cute baseball players."

"Feel your pain, bro," Ralph said. "My Mom has this thing for Johnny Damon."

"Ooh," Emily said. "He's a hottie, too." Derek narrowed his eyes at her. She grinned.

Ralph waved at him again and signed something. Casey caught words like "revenge" and "alone." Derek asked where Sam was. He tried to be discreet about it, just signing "where?" and leaving it at that, but Casey knew what he was trying to say.

"Library," Ralph signed. Derek nodded. Casey watched them openly.

"Finish your milk," Derek signed when he saw her watching.

"Yes, George," she signed back.

He rolled his eyes at her and peeked at his watch. Then he got up and started gathering up his trash, asking if she was done with hers and taking it for her.

Emily gave Casey an "I told you so," look.

Casey got up and went after him, catching up by the garbage cans.

"Thank you," she said, signing it at the same time. In doing this, she realized for the first time that she'd lost her tutor and needed someone new to practice with.

"Huh?" he said.

"Thanks for being nice to me today," Casey said. "Especially after I was a bitch to you."

"Yeah," Derek said. "Don't get used to it."

"I won't," Casey said.

Part Five: Sam.

High school is a really awful place to be if one wants to avoid someone. Sam had two people on his own personal _do not want_ list that day and he'd had to sit through classes with both of them. He just thanked the scheduling gods that he had neither gym or study hall that day, otherwise there would have been no avoiding Derek at all.

He managed to slip past the two of them over and over all day only to have Casey come visit (torture) him at work.

Sam worked at a Kwik Buy in a strip mall next to a drug store and a deli. When he took the job, he'd been a little disappointed that there was no video store nearby and a depressing lack of potheads in the parking lot.

That day the place was dead, dead enough for his manager to disappear into the back to mess around on the web, leaving Sam alone at the register, with only a spinning bottlecap for company.

Sam did not look up from the bottlecap until Casey appeared in front of him. She didn't look like she was going to buy anything, so he said, "Um, I'm at work, Case, so we really can't talk—"

"Okay," Casey said. "Then I'm a customer." She walked over to one of the narrow aisles and pretended to be read the label on a can.

"You realize that that's dog food, right?" Sam asked.

"Nobody'd know the difference, the way we all cook," Casey said, but she put the can down and started looking at light bulbs.

"You should probably go back to the dog food," Sam said, not relishing the idea of sweeping up bits of broken light bulb once she dropped it. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Well," Casey said, putting the light bulbs down. "How 'bout we start with why you said what you said to me last night. See, I can't begin to understand how you think and I thought it'd be a good idea to just ask."

"You asked me a question, and I answered it," Sam said. "That's really all there is."

"That is most certainly not all there is," Casey said.

"Well, fill me in why don'tcha," Sam said. "What else is there?"

"The fact that you couldn't be more wrong about anything if you tried," Casey said. She came closer to the counter. "I mean you think I'm in love with Derek? That's several levels of wrongness right off the bat."

"How's that?" Sam asked.

"Should I make a list?"

_Here comes the stepbrother cop-out_, Sam thought.

"I mean, he's my stepbrother, first of all," Casey said.

_Ca-ching_, Sam thought.

"Secondly, he's _Derek_. He's...he's..."

"Mmhmmm," Sam said.

"—immature and messy and a general pain in my ass," Casey said.

"And you talk about him constantly," Sam said.

"Because he's always _doing_ something to me," Casey said. "Pulling some stupid prank. Insulting me. Putting _frosting_ on my nose."

"Then there's the shoulder bump," Sam said. _Hint, hint_, he thought. _Wait a second, I'm __not__ gonna help. To hell with that._

"God, how that pisses me off," Casey agreed. "But stop trying to distract me. The fact of the matter is that you are completely _wrong_."

"Okay," Sam said.

"_Wrong_," Casey said. "And I was thinking about why you'd think such a thing and I only came up with one idea."

"This should be fun," Sam said.

"Shut up," Casey said. "_I'm_ talking—"

_What else is new_, Sam thought. But that sounded bitter and unfair, even to him, so he kept it to himself.

"I mean, Sam, I may be really angry with you right now, but you are a wonderful person," Casey said. "And I don't understand why you don't seem to know that."

"What?" _Cuckoo_, Sam thought.

"I really liked—_like_ you a lot," Casey said. "But you, for some reason had to sabotage it."

"You think I have low self-esteem?" Sam asked. His mouth wanted to twitch, so he rubbed it.

"Yes, I do," Casey said. "Why else would you think that a girl who's crazy about you was going to leave you for someone else? Why are you so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, Casey," he said. "Insecure would be if I tried to hold onto you. And I admit, I probably would have if you hadn't found that folder with the poem in it."

"And that was a really shitty thing to do, handing that poem in," Casey said, her eyes filling up. Sam wondered how she held out as long as she had.

"What if Ms. P. had read it in class?" Casey asked.

"She wanted to," Sam said. "I begged her not to."

"And obviously I should never have read it, but it hurt me," Casey said. "_So_ _much_. Do you understand how much it hurts to see something like that?"

"And I am really sorry about that," Sam said. "You have every right to hate me."

"I don't hate you," Casey said. "I just want to know why you hate _me_."

"I so obviously don't hate you," Sam said. _Idiot._

"Then I don't understand," Casey said.

"I know you don't," Sam said.

"Then explain it," Casey said.

Sam was not much for explaining. He'd been labeled the quiet one his entire life. Derek especially had always enjoyed the irony of that, but right that minute, he didn't want to think about Derek, so he pushed the thought out of his head. He started to look around the small store for inspiration, as if the Twinkie display was going to tell him what he needed to say to her to make her understand why being with her made him feel like one of those women that he saw on talk shows, the ones that find out that their husbands were gay (and fooling around) after twenty years of marriage. The women, horribly enough, were sometimes willing to stay with the men, even knowing that the men did not want them. Casey was neither gay, nor a cheater, but living a lie was living a lie. Neither of them would be happy.

"It just wasn't right, Casey," Sam said. "I told you why, and I know you don't wanna hear it, but it's true. And I knew that I needed to get out before it got any harder."

A customer picked that moment to come in. Casey impressed Sam with her stealth, turning around and heading into the aisle, a little sniffle the only thing giving her away.

"The cough drops are on the endcap and the packs of tissues are up here, ma'am," Sam covered, not that the guy was really paying attention. He got his condoms and lighter and was out of there in less than a minute. When the condom guy was gone, Sam rooted around behind the counter and found an open box of tissues. He pulled out a clump and handed them to Casey, who took them and honked briefly.

"Okay?" he asked, the wobble in his voice starting to give him away, too.

"Yeah," Casey lied. "I'll get out of your hair now, but can I ask you one thing?"

"Shoot."

"Can you not tell Derek about this?" Casey asked. "Because he'll always believe you over me, and I don't want to make things any weirder than they already are. And he's _going_ to ask, but just make something up, okay?"

"I'm surprised he didn't beat you here," Sam said.

"When I snuck out, Ralph was threatening to sit on him, to keep him away," Casey said.

"He was talking to _Ralph_?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Casey said.

_Crap,_ Sam thought. _She's gonna kill me now, I think._

"Because _I_ told Ralph," Sam said.

She started to hyperventilate.


	19. Chapter 19

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek or _"Stacy's Mom" or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Nineteen.

Part One: Ralph.

Nora had a strange power over Ralph, and Derek noticed.

"Ralphie, honey," Nora said, after Derek let him in. "Have you eaten? There's some pasta left."

"Uhmmm," Ralph said.

Derek poked him.

"I actually just had dinner, thanks," Ralph said.

"Well, just don't let Derek eat all the pie," Nora said, rejoining Derek's Dad on the couch.

"Um," Ralph said, voice cracking a little. "I will, I mean, I won't. Yeah."

"Uch," Derek said, dragging Ralph upstairs.

Once they got to his room, Derek smacked him in the head.

"Ow?" Ralph said.

"The hell?" Derek said. "You really need to stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"Crushing on my Stepmom!" Derek signed in case anyone else could hear. Casey had some girl music playing in her room, so Ralph told him that he really didn't have anything to worry about, but still. Little pitchers, big ears.

"She's cute," Ralph signed.

"Dude" Derek signed.

"I like her short hair," Ralph signed.

Derek slapped his forehead.

"Casey's Mom, man," Ralph signed. "She's got it—"

"Finish that sentence and die," Derek said.

Ralph grinned. "Going on?" he said, and ducked a flying pillow.

"Hey!" Ralph said. "What is with your family and the projectiles? This one throws shoes, that one pillows. What's next, the toaster?"

"Maybe," Derek said. "And just so you know, my Dad already used that Casey's Mom line. I didn't get it at first. Had to Google it."

_Whoops_, Ralph thought. A joke usually passed its sell by date once George Venturi used it.

"Wait a minute," Derek signed. "What'd you say about throwing shoes?"

"Huh?" Ralph said.

"You said something about my family and throwing stuff," Derek signed.

"Well, yeah. 'Cause Casey tried to knock Sam's head off with a loafer—"

"You shitting me?" Derek said.

"Shit you not, bud," Ralph said. "Nobody told you this?"

The music shut off. Ralph put a finger to his lips before Derek could answer out loud.

"No?" Derek signed. "Not just me though. I don't think anyone knows. Smarti and Ed filled me in on the yelling and the kicking to the curb. The shoe is new."

_Uh-oh_, Ralph thought.

"Feel like going for a walk, Ralphie?" Derek asked. "I feel like going for a walk."

"It's cold outside, and I'm not a puppy," Ralph said. "So, no."

"We're only going as far as Kwik-Buy," Derek said.

"Dude, no we're not," Ralph said.

"Why not?"

"Gotta let him sulk for a little bit," Ralph said. "You know that."

"He obviously talked to you," Derek said. "He's just gonna talk to me, now. And I want a slushie."

"It's, like, zero degrees outside," Ralph said.

"Then I want chocolate," Derek said.

"You probably have chocolate _here_," Ralph said.

"I wanna know why he's not talking to me," Derek said. "If you wanna stay here, maybe you can get Nora to adopt you, but I'm going."

"Do I have to sit on you again?" Ralph asked. "Neither of us wants that, right?"

"Ralph," Derek said.

"Derek," Ralph said.

"What do you know?" Derek asked.

"What do I _ever_ know?" Ralph said.

"You _know_," Derek said. "You always know. Who do you think you're kidding?"

That was an annoying habit, calling Ralph on stuff.

"I shouldn't be telling you anything," Ralph said.

"You already told me about the shoe thing," Derek said. "May as well tell me the rest."

Ralph raised an eyebrow at him. "You really need to wait for Sam to tell you."

"Will I live that long?" Derek asked.

Ralph thought it over. "Good point," he said.

"So why's he not talking to me?"

"He pissed off Casey, so he thinks you'll beat his ass for it," Ralph said.

"Bullshit," Derek said. "She can beat his ass herself. I told him that already."

"Not after what he said to her," Ralph said.

He said nothing for a minute or so, until Derek signed, "Tonight?"

"You tricked it out of me," Ralph signed.

"Of course I did," Derek signed. "I was a genius."

"You're not gonna like it," Ralph signed.

"Stop stalling."

"Warning," Ralph signed. "Not stalling."

"Go on."

"She asked him about the poem and all that stuff," Ralph signed. "You know?"

"Yeah."

"And she asked him who he thought she wanted to dump him for," Ralph signed.

Derek nodded.

_I'm gonna be struck by lightning before I tell him_, Ralph thought._ But I told him about the shoe thing, so..._

"You."

"Huh?"

"She wants _you_, dude," Ralph signed.

"She said this?" Derek signed. He didn't believe Ralph for a second. That was obvious.

"No," Ralph signed. "Sam said it. She threw the shoe, remember? Try to keep up."

"Sam's an idiot," Derek signed, rolling his eyes. "A really big one."

"You really think so?"

"So beyond stupid."

Ralph shrugged.

"Oh well," Derek signed. "At least he'll have more time to hang out with us."

"You should tell him that," Ralph said. "I wanna see his face."

"I'll try to get video," Derek said. He was quiet for a minute after that. Looked like he was thinking.

"What?" Ralph asked, finally.

"I want some pie," Derek said.

_Fair enough_, Ralph thought. He knew that he should probably be tougher about stuff like this, that he should not be letting his friend off that easy. He might even have been able to call him on his crap had Derek not reminded him about the pie.

Things seemed so unimportant when there was pie.

Derek and Ralph were in the kitchen, happily stuffing their faces when Casey came in.

"Where did _you_ go?" Derek said by way of greeting. Ralph nudged him.

"What?" Derek asked.

"Nowhere," Casey squeaked, pulling off her coat. She jumped up and down a little to warm herself up. She was trying to act like she hadn't been crying, like everything was normal. Derek played along.

To be fair to Derek, he _was_ watching her, and he _did_ look upset, but she looked up at him and he shrugged and fell back in love with his dessert.

"Whatsamatter?" Ralph sing-songed. Since _somebody_ was supposed to ask, and Derek was an idiot.

"Nothing," Casey said.

"Aw, come on," Ralph said. "Why don't you come and sit on Uncle Ralphie's lap and tell him all about it."

The girl had a way with a dirty look.Her red eyes just made it scarier.

"You're all red," Derek said.

"It's _windy_," Casey said.

"Okay," Derek said. "Didn't even think to get a slushie for your stepbrother?"

Ralph choked on a mouthful of apple and crust. Casey thumped his back a couple of times, and from what Ralph could see when he was done hacking and he blinked the tears away, Derek was trying not to laugh.

"There's this new thing," Derek said. "Called chewing."

Ralph flipped him off.

"Everyone okay in there?" Nora called.

"Yeah, Mom," Casey said. "All's cool."

Nora came into the kitchen. Looked Casey over. "I didn't know you went out, Casey," she said.

"Just went for a walk," Casey said.

"To bother Sam," Derek said.

"What's it to you?" Casey asked, turning around to grr at him.

"I'm standing here with no slushie, no coffee," Derek said. "I'm the victim here."

"How ever do you survive?" Casey asked.

"I bear up as well as I can," Derek said. "Under the circumstances."

"Derek," Nora said.

"Do you have an answer for everything?" Casey asked.

"Casey," Nora said.

"Do you have to ask?" Derek said. He was having a good time.

"Do you have to _breathe_?" Casey said.

Ralph broke a little piece of crust off of what was left of his pie and crunched on it as he watched.

"And you," Casey said, turning on Ralph. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he said, wide eyed.

Derek snorted. "Weakling," he signed.

"Scary girl," Ralph signed.

"Who's scary?" Casey asked.

_She's starting to get good_, Ralph thought. He was even scareder.

"I think it's past my bedtime," Ralph said. "Um, thanks for the pie." He inched toward the door before Derek grabbed him.

"Where you think you're going?" he asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "The least you can do is take _him_ with you."

"Caseeey," Nora said.

"Or better yet, do you think your Mom would go for a trade? You for Derek?" Casey asked.

"The woman does love me," Derek said.

"As long as _some_one does," Casey said.

"I dunno," Ralph said. "I haven't had you guys' pasta yet. It's hard to make a decision."

Casey laughed a little for the first time. Ralph thought he could understand both Derek and Sam's points of view. He had the urge to make her laugh again even if it killed him.

"No," Derek said. "Decide first. The pasta's kind of a deal breaker."

"Hey!" Nora said. "Oh wait, your Dad cooked tonight. Proceed." She turned and went back to the living room.

Derek cracked up. Casey snickered a little. She went to the fridge and poured herself some juice. She leaned against the counter to drink it. Ralph couldn't resist patting his lap again. She rolled her eyes and took her juice elsewhere.

After she was gone, Derek smacked Ralph upside the head and signed, "Sit on Uncle Ralphie's lap?"

"Worth a shot," Ralph signed. "Though I don't mean to get in _your_ way, bro."

"What?" Derek signed. "What are you talking about?"

Ralph crossed his arms and looked at him.

"You actually believe that crap, too?" Derek signed.

Ralph nodded, like nothing in the world could be more obvious. "Duh."

"You also think wrestling's real," Derek signed. "Don't know why I asked."

"You mean it's _not_ real?" Ralph asked, biting his knuckles.

Part Two: Casey.

Casey's mother followed her up to her room. She'd sort of expected it, but still wasn't happy.

"Hey," Mom said.

"Hey," Casey said, gesturing at her bed.

"Thank you," Mom said. "Want to talk?"

Casey knew better than to think that there was an option. She shrugged.

"So, you went to see Sam?" Mom asked. "How'd it go?"

"Um," Casey said, thinking. "It's kinda hard to describe. I guess it wasn't as bad as our last talk."

"A little less dramatic?" Mom asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "I guess he finally told me what was on his mind."

"And what was on his mind?"

_Oh God, Mom_, she thought. This was not something she could talk to her mother about. She knew that her Mom wanted details—they'd always been so open, but that just wasn't going to happen this time.

"I drove him crazy," Casey said. "I asked too many questions and it was like he didn't have any peace, is what he said. He was always afraid of saying the wrong thing and he didn't get that I wouldn't have gotten mad if he'd said the wrong thing."

"No?" Mom asked.

"Well," Casey admitted. "Not too mad. Definitely not as mad as I got when he kept his mouth shut." All of this was true, she reminded herself, it was just the smallest part of the truth.

"And is this what he said to get you to throw him out?" Mom asked.

"Yes," Casey said. "I flew off the handle. Again. But when he said it all at once like that, it was like he thought I was some kind of monster. And as frustrated as I got when he didn't talk to me, it got so much worse when he did."

"And that's what he was afraid of all along?" Mom asked.

"No," Casey said. "I pushed him until he didn't care anymore. He just let me have it. So I let him have it back, I guess."

"Okay," Mom said. "And what about tonight?"

"I don't know what I expected, but I had to go see him," Casey said. "And I did. We hashed it out."

"And?"

"And it's over," Casey said. She was going to cry again.

_Dammit_, she thought. Her Mom pulled her into a hug and they stayed like that for a few minutes. That made things feel a little bit better, but there was still the problem of Derek, and what he knew or didn't know. Or what he thought he knew.

_This is way too complicated_, she thought. And as mature as she thought she was, this whole thing brought her back to grade four when Brianna MacAleer, decided that it would be the funniest thing _ever_ to tell Joe Milano that Casey liked him. The whole class got a good laugh out of that. She especially remembered Joe's donkey laugh, as if _she_ hadn't been good enough for _him_. This despite the fact that he was ten, on his second trip through grade four, and still hadn't figured out how to keep his fly up or his teeth brushed.

In Derek's defense, he was no Joe Milano, but the feeling was the same. No one would believe her when she tried to deny this one either.

She'd slowly been more able to admit that Derek wasn't so bad, that she might grow to like him (_as a brother, hellooo?_) but in no way was she in love with him. She didn't get why _Sam_ would think that. She understood why adults like teachers and such would say that. They always equated fighting between two kids of the opposite sex with repressed attraction, and they thought that it was so damn _cute_. What it was, as far as Casey was concerned, was lazy thinking.

Sam should have known better than to leave her with such a mess to clean up. To make it worse, she didn't know what to do next. She wanted to make a list in the worst way, but since her index cards could fall into the wrong hands, that was out of the question.

"Okay, sweetie," Mom said, pulling back from the hug. "Feel a little better?"

"Yeah, I guess," Casey lied.

Mom sized her up, in an "are you sure you took out the garbage" sort of way, one eyebrow up. "You will," Mom said.

"I know," Casey said.

"Tell you what," Mom said. "How about a girl's day this weekend? See if Lizzie's free? Catch a chick flick? Frappuccinos?"

"Okay," Casey said. "If we can all find the time."

"I always have time for a frappuccino, myself," Mom said.

Casey laughed, like she was supposed to.

"Try to get some rest, okay, honey?" Mom said.

"Uh-huh," Casey said. _That'll happen_, she thought.

Part Three: Lizzie.

Lizzie sometimes thought of her older sister as the TMI Fairy, always willing to tell her stuff. So when Edwin sent her to see what she could find out, she'd shrugged and said she would. Edwin made the whole thing sound very Mission Impossible, of course. He started referring to Caseygate and said that what Lizzie was doing was officially known as a reconnaissance mission.

"Tell me you don't want me to put on camouflage," Lizzie said.

"Nah," Edwin said. "But do you have any black?"

It was all Lizzie's fault. She had accidentally encouraged him in all of this when she admitted that she and Marti had been the only ones near enough to hear the show. When Edwin found out that Marti'd had a pillow over her head for most of the action, he'd turned to Lizzie who'd told him what she'd heard about Casey supposedly liking someone else.

"No way," Edwin had said.

"Way," Lizzie said.

"You don't think—" Edwin said.

"I don't know," Lizzie said. "But that's when she asked him to give her a name and next thing I know, she's throwing him out of the house."

"Well, what _else_ would get her to do that?" Edwin said.

"No idea," Lizzie said. "We're biased, though. Just because _we_ think the two of them are obvious—"

"But they _are _obvious," Edwin said. "Any of this stuff Derek does, do you think it's normal?"

Lizzie smiled.

"You know what I mean," Edwin said. "He acts one way with us and a completely different way with her. She gets a boyfriend, so he has to get a girlfriend."

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "But that didn't last too long, Derek and Linda."

"Nope," Edwin said. "He's an idiot."

"That just sounds like he's being competitive," Lizzie said. It wasn't that she didn't support Edwin's theory, she did, but they needed more evidence than that.

"Yeah," Edwin admitted. "It does, but _why_ is he being competitive?"

"Because he's Derek," Lizzie said. "He bet you two dollars that you couldn't get an entire smore into your mouth."

"That reminds me," Edwin said. "He owes me two dollars."

"Funny, I would've thought the Heimlich Maneuver canceled out the bet," Lizzie said.

"Don't tell him that," Edwin said. "But okay, the competitive thing isn't good evidence, I get it. We still have the dance at the wedding and I told you about why he clammed up when we first met you guys."

"I still don't buy that," Lizzie said. Edwin had explained to Lizzie that Derek sometimes didn't trust himself to speak when he was really nervous. But he hadn't looked nervous at all.

"Yeah, but you'll see," Edwin said. "Time'll tell. Wait until the hockey playoffs. Silence and dry heaves."

"Ew," Lizzie said.

"Exactly," Edwin said. "And look at the way he checked her out before he knew who you guys were."

"What?"

"I told you about that."

"No you didn't," Lizzie said. "He checked her out?"

"Yeah," Edwin said, shrugging. "She had on that little dress?"

"The yellow one with the flowers," Lizzie said.

"Whatever," Edwin said. "Her legs were all over the place and Derek is a leg man."

"Only a leg man?" Lizzie asked.

"It's what he likes to say anyway," Edwin said. "All I know is that I couldn't get his attention for a second and then I saw what he was looking at just in time to see your Mom climb out of the car, and, well, you know what happened next."

"Yeah," Lizzie said.

"So what do we have on her end?" Edwin asked.

"Well," Lizzie said. "Casey never used to be a fan of confrontation."

"Until now?" Edwin asked.

"Uh-huh," Lizzie said. "You get the feeling she kind of enjoys fighting with him. She also tends to freak out about stuff she's bad at, and uses that as an excuse to stop doing it, whatever it is."

"Yeah?" Edwin asked.

"Well," Lizzie said. "She's not doing that so much anymore. If you think she would have stuck with the sign language class for so long—but that could be chalked up to a family thing. She would've done it for you or Marti, too."

"Yeah," Edwin said. "Casey is proving a little harder to read isn't she?"

"I know," Lizzie said.

"Well, what if you—"

"Nope," Lizzie said.

"Come on," Edwin said.

"Nooooo," Lizzie said. It always worked on Casey when she did that, but Edwin was having none of it.

"Go over to her room," Edwin began. "Lend an ear. Be a supportive sister."

"Why does it seem like I always have to do the dirty work?" Lizzie said.

"Because nobody'd suspect you," Edwin said. "And while Marti's pretty good at surveillance, her reporting skills leave much to be desired."

"And _your_ job is to—" _Watch, _she thought_, he's gonna say supervise, and then he will die._

"Compile data, _duh_." Edwin said. "No. Everyone knows _I _snoop. They haven't made you yet."

So that's how Lizzie ended up following Casey out of her room and into the kitchen. Lizzie had barely sat down on Casey's bed when Casey hopped up from her computer chair and muttered something about needing a glass of water.

"Ookay," Lizzie said, following.

Derek was in the kitchen, guzzling soda out of the bottle and not washing the dishes.

"Ralph left?" Casey asked. Derek didn't catch what she said so after he put the bottle down and belched, he asked her to repeat it.

"Ralph," Casey said. "Left already?"

"Yeah," Derek said. "Why? Are you gonna go after him next? Pretty soon I'll be out of friends."

"Um, no," Casey said. "I was just curious. He seems to keep you occupied and out of trouble."

Derek picked that moment to notice Lizzie lurking by the door. "Something you need?"

"I _was_ gonna get some soda," Lizzie said.

"There's still some left," Derek said, waggling the bottle a little.

"Ew," Lizzie said. She looked at the sink. "You're seriously gonna leave those dishes there?"

"Not my turn," Derek said.

"Has it ever been your turn?" Casey asked.

"Not for a while," Derek said, grinning. "Whose turn was it tonight?" He said that like he didn't know it had been Lizzie's turn.

"Move," Lizzie said, shoving him. Not that she liked doing dishes, but she thought they would lend her a little invisibility while she eavesdropped.

Casey grabbed a towel and waited by the sink, peeking in. "You guys got into the spaghetti, too?"

"Yeah," Derek said.

"_After_ the pie?" Casey asked.

"Ralph," Derek said, like that explained everything.

"Weird," Casey said.

"He thinks outside the box," Derek said. "He's...original. You're not his type anyway."

"Good to know," Casey said. "I think I've learned my lesson though."

"That's comforting," Derek said. "We'll all sleep better knowing that."

"I'll stick to people you don't know," Casey said.

"Well, if they let you email from the convent, you can drop us a line," Derek said.

"You _wish_," Casey said.

"I do," Derek said. "Or maybe we can just get you some starter cats."

The two of them were quiet for a second, so Lizzie turned to peek at them. Casey was staring at him, eyes narrowed, Caseyspeak for "I can't think of anything to say but when I do boy are you gonna get it." Derek was trying not to smile and failing miserably.

"Can't have cats around you, Derek," she said. "It's just not safe. They'd keep trying to bury you in their litter."

_Oh my gosh_, Lizzie thought, pausing midscrub.

"Oooh," Derek said. "Took you long enough." He clapped.

"You're such an ass," Casey said.

"Thought I was a cat turd," Derek said.

"That too," Casey said.

"That just makes so much sense, Nutcase," Derek said.

_Nutcase,_ Lizzie thought. _I like it._

"Nutcase," Derek said. "That will be your name from now on. Just gotta figure out a name sign."

"I'll kill you and let the cats bury you in the yard," Casey said. "Or better yet, we can donate your body to science fiction."

"Meh," Derek said. "What else you got?"

"You could be part of the Pez exhibit."

Derek yawned.

"See? That's what I mean," Casey said. That scrawny body. That huge head. That open mouth."

"Boring," Derek signed. The sign looks a lot like nose picking, so Casey was doubly offended.

She gave him a whack with the dishtowel.

"Resorting to violence already?" Derek said. "But you haven't called me a poopyhead yet."

Casey signed something. Looked like "Finish-touch." Lizzie knew that that meant something else, but she couldn't remember what.

Derek started laughing. "Who taught you that one?"

"Sam," Casey said. The corners of her mouth turned down. "Guess that's the last thing I learn from _him_."

"Good," Derek said. "So we can still talk about you behind your back."

Casey started laughing and beating Derek with the dishtowel that, Lizzie might add, she _wasn't_ using to dry the dishes. The dishes were on the rack, feeling neglected. Poor things.

_Edwin would die on the spot if he could see this_, Lizzie thought. _Do the two of them really think that they're fighting? Don't they watch TV? _

He grabbed her towel and they had a little tug of war until she let go of it and he fell back into the counter.

"Thought you were a pacifist," he said, when he could talk again.

"Yeah, well, _I_ thought it was your day to be nice to me," Casey said.

"I told you not to get used to that," Derek said.

Lizzie tapped Derek to get his attention. "You were _nice_?" Lizzie asked.

"_No_," Derek said. "Never happened. I was just humoring her. Don't you know it's safer to play along with Nutcases?"

_This__ is juicy_, Lizzie thought. She really didn't think she'd have anything to report.

"You missed a spot," Derek said, pointing at the dishes. Lizzie faced the sink again, and Derek put some suds on the end of her nose. She sneezed. If Edwin had pulled something like that, she would've nailed him with the sprayer. But if she did something like that to Derek, she had a feeling that he'd pull the bucket of warm water trick on her while she slept, so she let it go.

Lizzie rinsed the last dish. She nudged Derek.

"Can I have the towel back?" she asked. "So I can dry these dishes that _no one is helping me with_?"

"Oh yeah," Derek said, handing it back. "Sure. Here ya go."

"Thanks," Lizzie said.

"Happy to help," Derek said, patting her on the head and heading out.

"Gimme," Casey said, gesturing for the towel. Lizzie knew better than to point out that Casey was in a better mood. But she would be telling Edwin in a few minutes.

A/N: By the way, "FINISH-TOUCH" in ASL roughly means, (unless I have it completely wrong) "Been there, done that."


	20. Chapter 20

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty.

Part One: Edwin.

"Well?" Edwin asked. Casey had just disappeared into her room and Lizzie'd been close behind her. She didn't look surprised to see him camped out on the stairs that led to his room.

Lizzie nodded toward her room and he followed her in. He hopped onto her bed and sat cross-legged, waiting for her full report. She put on a CD. Edwin thought it might be Avril Lavigne, but wasn't sure.

"You're a dork," she said, giggling a little at the way he was watching her. She spun her desk chair around and sat in it.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Edwin said. "What'd you find out?"

"What does it mean when you sign 'FINISH-TOUCH' again?" Lizzie asked, demonstrating.

"Been there, done that," Edwin said. "Why?"

"'Cause Casey just used it on Derek," Lizzie said. "He laughed his head off."

"Was it a 'you're an idiot' laugh or more of an 'I'm really impressed' laugh?" Edwin asked.

It looked like she was opening her mouth to make fun of him again, but she closed it again, then opened it to say, "Both, actually. More impressed though."

"What else?" Edwin said.

"The usual thing," Lizzie said. She began to count on her fingers. "Let's see if I remember...Casey said she'd never date anyone Derek knows again and Derek said something about getting her a bunch of cats because he knows _everyone_ and at one point she called him a Pez-head and threatened to let her bunch of cats bury him in their litterbox—"

"Hehehe, good one," Edwin said.

"I thought so too," Lizzie said. "And that's when the beatings started."

"That's it?" Edwin asked.

"Pretty much," Lizzie said. "Well—actually, she said something about how she didn't have a sign language tutor anymore and looked all sad, then Derek said, 'oh so we can still talk about you behind your back' and she laughed and hit him again."

"Really?" Edwin asked.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "And oh yeah—this was the big thing—she said that he was _nice_ to her all day in school, but he was like 'don't get used to it'"

"_Nice_?" Edwin said. "Like, out in the open and everything?"

"I _know_," Lizzie said. "But he was really worried about her last night."

"Yeah," Edwin said. It really wasn't often that his brother let people see when he was worried, and the night before, it had been so obvious. He'd been forced to ask people whether Casey was okay and what the hell she was doing. Then, as always, when it was over, everybody had to pretend that it didn't happen.

This was proof that he cared, definitive proof. Edwin lived for stuff like that. It was always such an occasion when Derek dropped the too cool for you routine. Edwin wondered about the marketability of a line of greeting cards for the times that Derek was being less than cool.

"You realize that this is still not cutting it, though, right?" Lizzie asked. "This all still looks like brother stuff."

"I know," Edwin said. He leaned forward and put his chin in his hand. "We're just going to have to wait, and gather more data."

"I don't like to wait," Lizzie said.

"Me either," Edwin said. "At the rate they're going, we can get them to kiss at Marti's retirement party."

"It's November," Lizzie said. "We all met in August."

"What's your point?" Edwin asked.

"Rome wasn't built in a day," Lizzie said.

"I'm not looking to rebuild the coliseum," Edwin said.

"No?" Lizzie asked.

"No," Edwin said. "Just because I want the lion to kiss the gladiator..."

Lizzie cracked up.

"Wait a minute," she said. "Which one's which?"

"Does it matter?" Edwin said.

There was a knock at the door but before anyone could say anything else, Casey poked her head in.

"Guys?" she said. "If you're not gonna go to bed, can you at least turn the music down? _Some_ of us need our sleep."

_Ooh_, Edwin thought. _Someone's cranky._

"Sorry," Lizzie said, turning it off even though her stereo hadn't been up that loud.

"And don't you two think you _should _go to bed?" Casey said. "I am not waking either of you up in the morning."

Edwin could not remember Casey _ever_ having to wake him up. Lizzie might be another story; he knew she slept like a rock, but him? Not so much.

"Yeah, okay," Lizzie said. "'Night."

Casey left them alone.

"She's the lion," Edwin whispered as he got up to leave.

Lizzie giggled.

Part Two: Derek.

There was the nagging problem of Sam to deal with. He still didn't answer emails or texts, so Derek guessed it was official: Sam was Not Talking to him. There was no reason for this, that Derek could see. Derek was completely innocent of any wrongdoing and generally lacking in patience. So this was unacceptable. Just because Sam was delusional, it did not mean that Derek should be made to suffer.

And he felt for the guy, he really did. He realized that Sam had just had a big dramatic breakup and was depressed about it, but the whole thing was his own damn fault. _He'd _blown it, so why should Derek have to walk on eggshells?

But none of this logical thinking was getting Derek anywhere, so the next step was to get information from Ralph. Ralph knew it was coming, and wasn't happy about it.

"I don't know anything," Ralph said, before Derek had a chance to ask.

In response, Derek stood in front of Ralph's locker, arms crossed.

"Dude," Ralph said. "My gym clothes are in there."

Derek shrugged.

"Don't make me move you, dude," Ralph signed. Derek raised his eyebrows. He knew Ralph _could_ physically pick him up and probably stuff him into the locker in place of his gym stuff, but he knew that his friend _wouldn't_ do it.

"Look, I really don't know anything," Ralph said. "He's probably mad at _me_ for spilling the beans in the first place."

"Seriously?" Derek asked.

"Yep," Ralph said.

"Who knew drama queen was contagious?" Derek signed.

"Who'd he catch it from?" Ralph signed. Derek narrowed his eyes.

"Well," Derek signed. "Only one thing to do."

Ralph raised an eyebrow.

"We do nothing," Derek signed.

"Really?"

"Yep," Derek signed. "Nothing."

The eyebrow stayed up.

"Don't believe me?" Derek signed.

"Not even a little," Ralph signed.

"I am insulted!" Derek signed. "My own best friend shows no faith in me—"

Ralph was really starting to laugh.

"Hey," Derek said.

"Sorry, bro," Ralph said. "But you're not a hands-off kind of guy."

"Got any other ideas?" Derek asked.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Ralph said.

"Because I'm a genius?" Derek signed.

"Sure," Ralph signed, leaving Derek to wonder when Ralph started this new sarcastic phase.

Meanwhile Sam had a real talent for evasion. It was great for the hockey team, but not so great when Derek wanted to talk to him. They had several classes together that day and Derek didn't get to corner Sam until right after hockey practice.

Derek wasn't stupid enough to believe that he caught him, though. Sam was taking his sweet time, getting ready. Everyone else was pretty much gone. All signs pointed to Sam having given up and letting himself be cornered.

Derek took the opportunity and straddled the bench in the locker room while Sam changed into his street clothes.

"Soooo," he said. "What's _new_, Sammy?"

Sam shot him the dirty look to end all dirty looks, but Derek held his ground, smiling innocently like it was any other day. Sam turned back to his locker.

"No, asshole," Derek said, getting up off the bench and putting himself in between Sam and his locker. "Not gonna work. You know how I feel about the silent treatment."

One corner of Sam's mouth turned up. "What do you want?" Sam asked.

"Rachel Bilson in that Wonder Woman costume," Derek said. "But I don't think you can make that happen. What do you think I want, Hathead?"

"You don't seem to want to give me any peace," Sam said.

"Nope, not really," Derek said. "Peace is overrated. So why don't you tell me what happened the other day?"

"Like Ralph didn't tell you everything?" Sam asked.

_Guess that's just our fault for being so predictable_, Derek thought. "Maybe I just wanna hear your side?" he said. "Casey won't tell me anything, and it's not like I _care, _really, but it'd be good to know why I'm in the middle of an episode of _Days of Our Lives_ in my own house."

"But he did tell you," Sam signed. It didn't seem like a question.

"I dragged it out of him," Derek signed. "Why are you such an idiot?"

"Oh, I'm an idiot?" Sam signed. "Good one."

"Yeah, you're an idiot," Derek signed. "She would've stayed with you. You blew it."

"She's...she's just clueless," Sam signed.

"Yeah, but you seemed to think it was cute before," Derek signed. "If you just couldn't take her anymore, you really should've just said so, but, this?"

"Why does it feel like we've had this talk before?" Sam signed.

"Don't even try it," Derek said.

"Because we totally did," Sam said. Thankfully, he went back to signing before he said anything that could be overheard. "I really should have stuck with my instincts and broken up with her then. I shouldn't even have told you anything, but I'm a big selfish asshole, and let you talk me out of it."

_Dammit, Sam_, Derek thought. _Why do you have to be so difficult?_

"Wow," Derek signed. "It really is contagious. She infected you with her crazy. Nothing you say will ever make sense again."

"Stop it, Derek," Sam said. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then he didn't.

"What?" Derek asked.

"Nothing," Sam said. "Screw it."

"Yeah," Derek said. "I'm just gonna let that hang. Are you kidding me?"

"Nope," Sam said. "I give up. Gonna just say 'uncle.'"

"You're still not making any sense," Derek said.

"I tried to tell both of you the truth," Sam said. "Neither of you want to hear it."

"Sam, listen," Derek said, changing tacks. Joking around didn't work. Sarcasm didn't work. He was going to have to try to be _honest_. Sorta. He didn't know if he could do it. The effort just might kill him.

"I get that you believe what you're saying," Derek said. "But that doesn't make it true."

"Why are you trying to argue with me, man?" Sam signed. "Like I don't know you. But, like I said: I give up. If you want to keep acting like you don't have feelings for her, then I won't stop you. I just couldn't stand going out with her knowing that she's nuts about you. But whatever. Not my problem. I'll shut up if you want me to."

"Good, because I really do," Derek said. Especially because there was no way in hell she had feelings for him. No _way_. He could read her better than Sam could. He would have seen it.

"Okay then," Sam said. "I won't mention it again."

"Thank you," Derek said. He hoped that Sam meant it this time.

A few days went by and Sam cooled off and started to act like his buddy again, so Derek should have felt a little better. Things calmed down.

But suddenly it seemed like Casey was never home. Which put Derek in a difficult position as he was absolutely dying to know what she was doing, but couldn't ask where she was and what she was doing without it seeming suspicious.

It wasn't that he cared what she did, he told himself. He just had this urge to know everything; it was a quirk of his. It took him exactly three days to crack.

"Did you get a job or something?" Derek asked Casey as she made herself a sandwich. She'd missed dinner. Again.

"Why?" Casey asked.

"Because if there is money coming into this house that I could borrow..."

"Fat chance," Casey said.

"Or an employee discount that might come in handy—" Derek said.

"Like I'd let you use my employee discount," Casey said.

"I'd let you use mine," Derek said.

"No you wouldn't" Casey said, which was completely unfair. He'd let her use it, eventually, after he'd had some fun pretending not to know her.

"Not that it matters," Casey said. "Because neither of us has a job."

She tried to flounce away with her sandwich and milk, but he grabbed her arm. She splashed a little bit of milk over the both of them.

"De-_rek_," she said, putting her stuff back on the table and going for some paper towels to clean herself up. Derek took the opportunity to snag some of her crust when her back was turned. Then he tore off a bigger piece and began to munch. She used too much mayo.

She hit him when she found out, of course, and snatched the rest of her sandwich away. Before she could leave again, he stopped her again.

"So then what are you doing?" he asked.

"You care?"

"I need to make sure you're not doing anything that might cast shame upon this family," Derek said.

Casey loved that one. She laughed until her face turned pink and tears started to stream. She kept her mouth covered, so that nobody came running. When she did stuff like that, he really had to suppress the urge to tickle her.

"You're...kidding..right?" she asked, when she could sorta talk again. "I might shame the family!"

"We have a reputation to uphold," Derek said.

"This from the future (mumble) we-don't-talk-about," Casey said.

"The _what_?" Derek asked.

"Huh?"

"The future—"

"Relative," Casey repeated. "The future relative-we-don't-talk-about."

"That's me?" Derek signed.

"Sorry, but yeah, you are," Casey said.

"I'm too much fun not to talk about," Derek signed.

"You wish," she said. The fact that she seemed to understand him, even if she just got enough to bluff him a little, made him incredibly happy and depressed him at the same time. It'd be so much easier for them to ignore each other if she, for example, mumbled, talked with her mouth full, or decided that she didn't want to bother with this whole sign language thing after all. But as it stood, the more she tried, even when she botched it, the hotter she got.

"You're jealous," Derek said. "But you can redeem yourself if you tell me what you've been doing all week."

"Looks like I'm going to hell," Casey said, walking away.

"Well, I just can't let that happen," Derek said. She continued to walk away from him. He followed her upstairs and got her door closed in his face. It was about what he expected her to do. He laughed as he went into his own room and sat down at his computer.

He sent her an instant message: _You know you want to tell me_.

She replied. _Not really_, she wrote.

_I'll find out what it is. I always do, so you may as well just tell me,_ he wrote.

_Don't you have anything better to do than bug me? _She wrote back.

_Nope_, he replied.

_Like homework?_ She wrote.

_Have you met me?_ He wrote back.

_I keep trying to block out the memory, but yes,_ she wrote. _I, however have homework, so if you don't mind, and even if you do..._

Then she put up her away message, like that would get him to stop bugging her. Stuff like that just made him work harder. When it came to a lot of things, he was a path of least resistance kind of guy, but he really did love a challenge.

And this wasn't just simple curiosity either. He needed to know why she was out of the house so much, suddenly. Extracurricular activities were one thing, but he didn't like it when he got home from hockey practice to find no Casey. He especially hated eating dinner and facing an empty chair.

And what sucked was that the 'rents knew where she was, as did everyone else, probably, but he'd somehow missed the memo and couldn't catch up without looking suspicious. He tried to make sure that it didn't happen often, but once in a while, information did get by him, especially when there was food involved.

So the question remained: How was he going to find out what he wanted to know? He made a mental list of who he could ask. _Mental_. Derek Venturi did not make actual lists. That was Casey territory. If he started making lists, it would only be a hop, skip, and a jump to the land of high-liters and 3 by 5 cards. There would be none of that.

First he thought of Emily. She'd been helpful before, in at least trying to get Casey to talk to him when she wouldn't. But she couldn't keep a secret, so that was a liability.

There was always Edwin. But then Ed would have questions of his own.

Or he could follow her.

Part Three: Casey.

She joined the yearbook staff. That was all. She'd made it seem like some big secret and the more Derek asked, the dorkier she felt for not telling him in the first place because he would really laugh his ass off when he finally found out. It was a vicious circle.

Emily had already given her a hard time about it.

"I thought you wanted to come off like_ less_ of a keener," she had said.

"What's the big deal?" Casey asked. "I'm taking a few pictures, learning about layout, maybe proofreading a little. How exactly is that social suicide?"

"Proofreading?" Emily said.

"Grammar is important," Casey said.

Emily smiled and shook her head, the way Casey had seen her do when her cat knocked stuff over. Emily had the anti-cat, the biggest, clumsiest, droolingest beast this side of a dog. And Casey apparently rated the same look of resignation.

"You wanna make sure they spell your name right, don't you?" Casey asked.

"How are they going to misspell Davis?"

"Have you met any of these guys on staff?" Casey joked.

"Hey!" A voice said from behind them.

"I'm kidding, Tinker," Casey said.

He caught up and fell into step between them.

"You're on yearbook too, Tink?" Emily asked.

"Yep," he said.

"_Why_?" Emily asked.

"I think it's the power," Tinker deadpanned. "See, people gotta be nice to me now, or else I can make sure their pictures go in unretouched." Emily laughed.

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," Casey said.

"Isn't it awesome?" Tinker asked.

"Emily thinks it's dorky," Casey said.

"Because it is," Emily said.

"Is not," Casey said.

"Actually," Tinker said. "It totally is."

"Tink!"

"The sooner you accept it, the happier you'll be," he said. He paused in the middle of the hall, took her hands in both of his. "With your own kind!"

"Uh-huh," Casey said, taking her hands back.

"We're all over the world," Tinker said. "Leading happy and productive lives with our pocket protectors and—"

"Sweater-vests?" Casey said.

"Exactly," Tinker said, puffing out the hem of his own sweater-vest. "I keep telling you that you gotta try one! If anyone could make one of these things look hot, it's you."

"Aww," Emily said.

Casey shot eye-lasers at her.

He was a weirdly affectionate kid, Tinker. He always seemed to be putting his hand on her arm, and once or twice slung an arm around her shoulders. Casey knew that she could be oblivious sometimes, but this kid was hard to miss.

She really wasn't used to this type of thing. People didn't usually pay this much attention to her, so her first instinct was to think that maybe Tinker was like that with _every_body. But that didn't last long. And, being the coward that she was, she couldn't do much more than put him off by saying that she'd only just broken up with someone and wasn't ready for a new relationship.

"How bout a little rebound fling?" he said.

Casey stopped short and narrowed her eyes.

"Kidding!" he said. "But seriously, is it out of the question?" He ducked the smack she aimed at his head.

"You're really cute," she admitted. "But yeah. Out of the question."

"Can't fault a guy for trying," he said.

"No?" Casey asked.

Emily watched the whole exchange, and Casey was confident that she wouldn't be hearing the end of it anytime soon. But really, Tinker was okay. He really was cute, in a cheek-pinchy kind of way, with all that red hair and the freckles. She just wasn't in the mood for a relationship with _anyone_.

At least he was professional at the meeting later that day.

The staff had been pretty eager to take her, having just lost somebody. Casey didn't ask questions, but it came out that Sheldon Schlepper had been the one who quit. Because his older brother was the editor.

"He thinks I'm a pain in the ass," Shawn explained.

"Shawn's a_ total_ pain in the ass," another staffer—Wendall Wiggins said as he passed by. Shawn nodded.

"Good to know," Casey said.

She'd brought in a disk of pictures she'd taken and a folder full of drawings she'd done. It was just a formality.

"Okie dokie, you're in," Shawn said, holding out a hand for her to shake.

"O—kay," she said, shaking his hand. He outlined some stuff that she'd be doing. Since it was November, they weren't exactly operating under a time crunch, but he would be sending her to a lot of school events.

"Clash of the Bands is coming," Shawn said. "Think you can make that? It's a couple weeks from Monday."

"_Mon_day!" Wendall complained.

"I know," Shawn said. "No respect for the arts, this school."

"Yeah," Casey said. "I can make that."

"Do you know anybody else who takes good pictures?" Shawn asked. "You know, just to make sure we get different angles and stuff."

"Off the top of my head? Nope, not really," Casey said.

"If you think of anyone, let me know," Shawn said.

"There's also basketball and hockey this weekend," Wendall said. "You can take the hockey, right noob?"

"I think I'd rather take basketball," Casey said.

"Doesn't your bro play hockey?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah, well," Casey said. "I've been to a couple hockey games and I just. Can't. Look." She decided not to mention the whole ex-boyfriend-on-the-team thing, and the whole would-like-to-avoid-the stepbrother thing.

"If you're sure," Shawn said. "Looks like you got hockey detail, _boychik_."

"Joy," Wendall said.

Wendall showed her some basic layout stuff and explained that they usually also submitted photos to the school newspaper and website too.

"So that means that there's no such thing as too many pictures," Wendall said. "Snap away."

"Sounds good," Casey said.

Thankfully, people kept trickling in late and that made the meeting stretch out longer than it was supposed to. Then they went out for pizza. Casey called home and cleared it with her mother, who, based on the giggly tone she used, must have assumed that there was a cute and available guy on staff.

Like that was gonna happen.

Part Four: Wendall.

Shawn, true to form, was putting the moves on the new girl. That was pretty fun to watch, especially since she wasn't having it. She didn't even seem to notice it, actually. She was too busy fending off Tinker Tomlin. It seemed like they didn't get a lot of unattached girls around there. Wendall himself was really the only one who wasn't chasing her.

But Casey, the noob, was pretty cool. They talked a little, that first day when he showed her the ropes and, before they all went out to eat, she'd followed him to his locker, chattering the whole way about books and stuff. And then...

"Are you a _Rent_-head, Wendall?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"That's Idina Menzel in your locker, right?" she asked, pointing to the picture.

"Um, yeah," Wendall said, surprised. "You're probably the first person who didn't ask if that was my sister. So are you a fan of _Rent_ or _Wicked_?"

"Both," Casey said. "Used to do musicals in my old school, but they don't seem to do too many here, do they?"

"Maybe in the spring," Wendall said. "I've done a few." He'd done them all.

They were going to be buddies. She cemented this by the time they'd made their way out to Shawn's car on the way to the pizza place. They'd made their way through "Over the Moon" and on to "I Should Tell You."

"Showtunes," Shawn said. "Fun."

"At least she's got a good voice," Tinker said, shrugging.

"Thanks, Tink," Casey said. The kid blushed purple.

"All I ask is that you don't encourage Mr. Wendall over here," Shawn said. "Last year it was wall-to-wall _Wicked _and...freakin..._Jersey Boys._. It was like a never ending road trip with my Mom and my poor heart just can't take it."

"How bout _Les Mis_," Casey joked. Shawn clutched his chest, staggered and pretended to collapse against the hood of his car.

Casey looked at Wendall and Tinker. Wendall raised one eyebrow. Casey grinned evilly.

"On my own..." she sang.

Shawn groaned.

"Oh, you're just gonna fit right in," Wendall said.

"Thank you," Casey said.

The girl was a godsend; she was happy to do most of what they assigned. In the first week, she covered both basketball teams and the bake sale for the literary magazine. They couldn't be happier with her. Also the newspaper folk were starting to woo her over there and she seemed happy to work with them, too.

At the end of that first week, Shawn called another quick meeting because there was another newbie. Sort of a freelancer. Wendall got there early to see who it was.

"Wendall," Shawn said. "You know Derek Venturi, right?"

"Hey," Derek said.

"Yeah," Wendall said shaking his hand. Everybody knew the kid. He was a jock, and had been ridiculously popular since he'd gotten there in grade nine. This was the first time he'd spoken to him, though.

Wendall had expected him to be way cockier. Kid looked almost nervous.

"So?" Wendall tried. "You do photography?" Shawn nudged him.

"What?" Wendall asked.

Shawn grabbed either side of Wendall's head and turned him toward Derek.

"Shit!" Wendall said. "Completely forgot. I'm sorry, Guy."

"No problem," Derek said, starting to smile a little.

Casey came running in, like she was late. _Like anyone would have cared if she were late. Girl could really stand to lighten up a little,_ Wendall thought.

"Sorry," Casey said. "I got caught up after math class and—"

She stopped cold.

"Well," Derek piped up. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Don't you have hockey practice?" Casey asked.

"Not today," Derek said. "Thought I'd, you know, expand my horizons."

"So you two know each other?" Wendall asked, at a loss for what else to say. Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Oh," Casey said. "How...nice."

"Oooh," Shawn said. "So Wendall, I'm still having some trouble with the HTML for the, um...just let's go over there for a while, okay?"

"Okay," Wendall said, letting Shawn drag him across the room to a workstation.

"So what's the story?" Wendall asked. "Ex-boyfriend?"

"Stepbrother," Shawn said.

"You're messing with me," Wendall said.

"Nope," Shawn said, grinning. "Not even a little."

Casey turned to see if anyone was watching. Shawn and Wendall pretended to work at the computer until she turned back. Then she signed something to Derek.

"Tell me you know ASL," Wendall said.

"Nope," Shawn said. "And by the looks of things, neither does she."

Derek smiled and signed something back.

The poor girl was very clumsily and very angrily trying to argue with him, but he wouldn't crack.

"Stepbrother?" Wendall asked.

"I know," Shawn said. "Oooh? I know what_ that_ one means."

"Wait, what?" Wendall said. "I missed it."

"Tell ya later," Shawn said. "We gotta ask Sheldon what he knows about these two. He has classes with 'em. So if I were to upload this..."

"Guys?" Casey said, coming over, Derek close behind. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be," Wendall said. Shawn kicked him under the table.

"Didn't mean to waste so much time," Casey said.

"We have lots of time," Shawn said.

"Hey," Tinker said, coming in. "What'd I miss?"

"Grrrrrrr," Casey said. Her hands turned to claws for a second, but then she was able to compose herself.

"Nothing much," she said.

"Hey Tink," Derek said.

"Hey," Tinker said. His jaw tightened a little as he smiled. "What brings _you_ here?"

"Grrr," Casey said.

"Thought I'd try something new," Derek said. "Get in a little quality time with my sis." He put his arm around Casey.

"_Step_-sis," she said, brushing his arm off. "So. How 'bout we get down to business?"

Part Five: Derek.

Shawn Schlepper was cool enough to give the both of them another ride home, so they were on their best behavior until he dropped them off.

Then Derek knew he was about to get it.

Casey held out until both of them got inside. Derek scanned the room quickly. She couldn't kill him yet. The 'rents were in the kitchen chopping stuff; they'd stop her from getting hold of any knives. Plus Lizzie, Edwin and Smarti were in the living room in front of the TV. They'd make good witnesses.

Derek raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for the onslaught that he, admittedly, had been looking for. But she didn't give it to him. She headed upstairs instead. When he began to follow, she moved a little faster but then he was able to get around her and make it into her room before she could lock him out.

"Why?" she asked.

"What?" he asked.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" she asked.

_Great_, he thought. _Way to make me feel guilty_.

"Why are you never here?" he asked. "What's that about?"

"None of your business," she said.

"Trying to avoid something?" he asked.

She said nothing, continued to glare.

"Avoiding me?" he signed. She turned around so that her back was to him.

"You know that only works when I do it," Derek said. He came around so that he was in front of her again, and she turned the other way.

"We can keep doing this until you get dizzy," Derek said.

"Give. Up," Casey said. "Take a hint."

"I'm not good with hints," Derek said.

"Hate you," Casey signed.

"I don't believe you," Derek signed.

"Wait," Casey said. "What?"

"I don't believe you," he said. "You don't hate me."

"I sure as hell don't_ like_ you," she said, getting up in his face. "And I wish that you would leave me alone."

_Don't smile_, Derek told himself. _That's not funny. Nor is it cute_.

He bit his lip. It occurred to him that he really _didn't _believe her. He knew damn well that _he_ was crazy about _her_; he'd been trying his ass off to deny it all this time. The possibility that _she_ might actually like _him_ hadn't entered his mind. He'd assumed Sam was just nuts. And Ralph was Ralph, so he didn't often listen to him.

_Holy crap,_ he thought.

"Hello?" Casey said. "I just said I want some time to myself. Think you can do that?"

There was no way that he could have spoken if his life depended on it. He nodded and turned to leave.


	21. Chapter 21

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Part One: Emily.

Mademoiselle Bouvier decided that she was going to assign partners for the French project, which meant that Emily and Casey didn't get to work together the way they usually did. Though, to be honest, it became obvious that Casey was more upset than Emily was.

"Kendra Mason," Casey whispered. "It would be my luck."

It was up to Emily to give her friend a little perspective. "Kendra is cool," she said. "You're not. This can only help your status."

"I'm going to end up doing all the work while _she_ does her nails," Casey said.

"She'll owe you big time," Emily said. "She's in grade eleven and knows everyone. Think of the parties you can get into, taking me along, of course—"

"Of course," Casey said, rolling her eyes.

"You can handle this project in your sleep, anyway," Emily said.

"That's not the point," Casey said.

"And she took the class last year," Emily said. "She'll probably remember _some_thing."

Casey groaned.

"It'll be fine," Emily said.

"Easy for you to say," Casey said. "You got Sheldon."

"You rang?" Sheldon said from behind Casey. She, predictably, jumped like she'd been cattleprodded.

"Don't do that!"

"Do what?" Sheldon asked. He looked legitimately perplexed. He was several feet away; it wasn't like he'd been trying to sneak up on her.

"Sorry," Casey said. "Too much caffeine."

"Really?" Sheldon asked. "I thought you looked more like the herbal tea type."

"Oookay," Casey said. "Was there something you needed?"

_Ew,_ Emily thought. _Rude much?_

"Actually, I wanted to ask Emily something," Sheldon said. "You know. If it's okay with _you_."

"Be my guest," Casey said.

Sheldon gave a sarcastic little bow. Emily giggled.

"What's up?" Emily asked.

"Well," Sheldon said. "I was wondering if you wanted to get a jump on that project. Maybe start tomorrow?"

"I think that can be arranged," Emily said.

"Okay," Sheldon said. "Your place or mine?"

Casey covered her eyes and shook her head. That was probably why he said it.

"It'd have to be yours, I think," Emily said. Her Dad could be a little—or a lot—embarrassing, especially when it came to teenaged boys in his house and so she tried to keep them away from him.

"Just let me know when," Sheldon said.

Very few people could get Emily to do homework on a Saturday afternoon. The question was how much work would Sheldon want to do before allowing himself to be led astray. With Casey, Emily had quickly learned that they at least needed to get halfway through the assignment before any goofing off was even considered.

God forbid Sheldon was all business.

And for a minute there, she was worried that he would be. She got to his house and he led her to the kitchen table which was laden with textbooks, notepads and laptop. He'd made some notes already.

_It's Casey squared_, she thought. But it turned out that she didn't need to worry. He got a jump on the work precisely so that they could have more time to slack off. It seemed like he'd do anything to get her to laugh, even going so far as to read his half of the dialogue they were working on as Inspector Clousseau.

She had time to notice that when he wasn't clowning, that his accent was really good. And she told him so.

"Thanks," he said, sheepishly. "Have no idea what I'm saying half the time, but thanks."

"Who cares?" Emily teased. "It's all sexy and stuff. Doesn't matter what you say."

"Really?" Sheldon said. "In that case: _Les Miserables_. Grenouille. Celine Dion."

"I've created a monster," Emily said.

"C'est la guerre," Sheldon said, shrugging. "So, would you say we've done enough..._work_ for today?"

He wrinkled his nose when he said "work."

"I think so," Emily said.

They held eye contact for a second. He had really long eyelashes and a little bit of a five o'clock shadow. She had the urge to rub his cheek, but thought better of it.

"Um," Sheldon said. "Want something to eat?"

"Okay," Emily said. He hopped up quickly, up-ending his chair, only catching it at the last second and righting it again. Then he disappeared behind the refrigerator door for a minute and came up with some grapes that he held up for her approval. Then he pulled out a hunk of cheese which he started to slice up. This worried her, of course, because she knew him well enough to know that he and knives probably wouldn't get along, that he would most likely have a difference of opinion with the one he was using and they'd end the day in the ER.

She bit her lip, suppressing the _be careful_ that wanted to come out so badly.

"What?" he asked, looking up from the chopping. Thankfully he stopped when he looked at her.

"Nothing," she said.

He went back to it. When he finished without incident, her heartbeat returned to normal.

"Did you think I was going to lose a finger just now?" he asked.

"Huh? No," she lied.

"Yeah," Sheldon said. "Whatever. My Mom does the same thing. I swear, you nick _one_ little artery and suddenly everyone thinks you're incompetent?"

"What?"

"I'm kidding," Sheldon said. "That was Shawna."

"I heard that!" Shawna said from the living room.

"It's true," Sheldon leaned in to whisper in her ear. Emily stifled a giggle.

"So," Sheldon said. "Soda? Juice? Um...coffee?"

"Coffee, tea or me?" Emily asked.

"Aren't you glad I didn't go there?" Sheldon asked. He went back to the fridge and pulled out a couple of bottles to show her. She went with some apple juice.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Emily asked, patting the back of the chair nearest her. He'd been sitting across from her before. He took the hint and sat down.

So there he was, sitting right next to her, like she'd wanted, but the only problem was that she didn't know what the hell to do next. She'd never made a move before, really had only just decided that a move should be made. And clearly no moves were forthcoming from his side, either, so there was only one thing to do.

Make idiotic small talk.

"So," Emily said, trying not to grind her teeth. "This is a really nice house you have here."

"Thanks," Sheldon said. "Designed it myself. With legos. They said the turret wasn't cost-effective though."

"A turret would have been cool," Emily said.

"And they laughed when I suggested the moat, but time will prove me right on that," Sheldon said.

Emily laughed and took the opportunity to lean in a little. He leaned in a couple of inches, too.

Then it sounded like a drill sergeant entered the kitchen.

"WHAT'RE YOU DOING?"

Both Sheldon and Emily looked up in shock to see Shawn standing in the doorway, arms crossed, trying to look stern even with his shoulders shaking. Shawna was right behind him.

"Asshole," Shawna said, punching Shawn in the arm. "Why would you do that? They were all cute and kissy and stuff—"

Sheldon covered his face with his hand.

"And you had to go kill the moment," Shawna said. "That is some serious bad karma."

"Totally worth it," Shawn said.

"Anyway," Emily said, deciding to ignore them both. "Why don't you just give me the grand tour. Maybe you can show me where you would have put the turret."

"Nuh-uh," Shawn said, pointing. "You better watch where you put that turret."

"Oh my God," Sheldon said.

Then Emily got the joke. "Oh my God!" she said.

"Shawn, was there something you wanted?" Sheldon asked. "Besides the jolt you so obviously get from torturing me?"

"I forget," Shawn said. "Though the torture was a big part of it. _Ow!_" Shawna hit him again.

"Now I remember," Shawn said. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"I don't have any money," Sheldon said.

"No, you never do," Shawn said. "What I want is information."

"On?"

"Well, okay," Shawn began. "Just got off the phone with Casey McDonald."

"Yeah," Sheldon said.

"I called her to get Derek's contact info because I wrote his email down wrong," Shawn said. "They're both taking pictures on Monday, by the way."

"Clash of the Bands?" Emily asked.

"Yep," Shawn said. "I figure one of them will get your good side, bro."

"I have a good side?" Sheldon asked.

"He's gonna be in Clash of the Bands," Shawn told Emily. "You knew that right?"

"No," Emily said, looking at Sheldon in shock.

"So what exactly was it that you wanted to ask me?" Sheldon asked, probably to change the subject.

"Actually, I wanted to ask Emily," Shawn said. "But you might know, too. I wanted to know if I'm crazy or—"

"Yes," Both Sheldon and Shawna said.

"_Or_," Shawn said. "Is there a..._thing_...between the both of them? Derek and Casey?"

"Why?" Emily asked.

"He probably wants to ask her out," Sheldon said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't judge me," Shawn said. "So what do you think, Em?"

"She just had a breakup," Emily hedged.

"Yeah," Shawn said. "I know. I can be patient. If I have a chance, that is. But I dunno. I've been working with the two of them over the past couple weeks and there's a vibe, so I wanna know if I'd be wasting my time."

"You might be," Sheldon said.

"You think?" Shawn asked.

"I think so too," Emily said. She hated to say it. She didn't even like to think it. But she'd more or less given up Derek as a lost cause and his thing for Casey was what had kick-started the process of letting go of her crush.

"Well, at least I found out now," Shawn said. "Feel kinda bad for the guy. Girl who looks like her shows up, goes 'Hiee, I'm your new stepsister...'" He twirled an imaginary lock of hair. "It's almost like _this_ one showing up on our doorstep," He put his hand on Emily's shoulder. "And Mom and Dad adopting her."

"I'm sure she can share a room with Shel," Shawna piped up.

Sheldon narrowed his eyes at her.

"Wanna go for a walk, Em?" he squeaked.

"Sure," Emily said. "A walk would be good." It was a little hot in there.

"Take a jacket," Shawn said, grinning.

"Be safe," Shawna said.

"'Have fun storming the castle,'" Shawn said.

"_Ass_," Sheldon said.

"Love you too, bro," Shawn said, as Emily and Sheldon beat it out of there.

"Clash of the Bands, huh?" Emily said, once they cleared the driveway. Sheldon groaned.

Part Two: Casey.

Sunday.

Casey didn't like to admit it when she was wrong, but sometimes she really had to force herself. This was one of those times.

Kendra Mason wasn't so bad. Sure, she came off a little dizzy, but she did her share of the work. She seemed properly embarrassed to be repeating the class and wanted to do things right the second time around.

She also had an odd sense of humor that Casey appreciated. The dialogue that they were working on consisted of Kendra asking Casey where she can get good Mexican food in Paris. Kendra's idea.

Casey replied. "Okay, this is weird."

"Très weird," Kendra agreed. "But I can just about guarantee that nobody else came up with this idea."

"That's true," Casey said.

"Hit 'save,'" Kendra said.

"Huh?" Casey asked just before her computer and desk lamp clicked off. "What the hell?"

"I told you to hit 'save,'" Kendra said.

Casey spun in her chair and turned toward the bed where Kendra was sitting. "Wha?" she asked. Kendra pointed toward the outlet near the door.

"I think there might have been a hockey stick involved?" Kendra said.

"Oh hell no," Casey said. "I can be a good sport, but mess with my homework and feel my wrath." She turned to Kendra. "Kendra, you might wanna get comfy because this might be a while. And if there's screaming, it's just Derek, so pay no attention."

"No problem," Kendra said, sitting up a little straighter with anticipation.

"De-rek," Casey said, stomping into his room. He was sprawled across his bed, on his stomach, reading a magazine. She grabbed his pillow and hit him with it. If he hadn't been facing the window, she never would've gotten away with it. As it was, he saw her shadow and turned around at the last second, allowing her to get him in the face. The next minute or so was a blur with her raining blows and him fending them off, but somehow she ended up pinned to his bed with him on top of her.

"What. Is. Your. Problem?" he asked.

"You," she said. "_You_ are my problem." She tried to wiggle free, but the boy was stronger than he looked.

"And you better hope that I didn't just lose all my homework, you...you..." Casey sputtered.

"Dog? Slug? Worm?" Kendra said from the doorway.

"One of those," Casey said, turning to her and causing Derek to look up.

He let go of Casey right quick after that. He bounced up with a grace that Casey sort of envied, and stood.

Kendra smiled at him. "You do realize I just saved your life, right?" she asked.

Casey sat up and looked from one of them to the other. She was watching something she never thought she'd see: Derek flustered. She wondered if it was too late to document it for posterity. She decided that it was, that he'd regain the power of speech by the time she got a camera set up.

He tried to say "Hey" but it was more of an exhalation than anything else.

Kendra's smile widened. "Are you forever in my debt, now?"

"O-okay," Derek said.

"In that case, see if you can retrieve the work we were just working on when you unplugged the computer," Kendra said.

"Yeah okay," Derek said. He jerked a thumb at Casey. "Before she cries or something." He left the room leaving the two girls standing there.

"Teach me how to do that?" Casey said.

Kendra started to blush furiously. She fanned her face. "Oh my gosh," she said. "'_Forever in my debt_?' What was I _think_ing? I am such a _dork_."

"Can I be your dork apprentice then?" Casey asked. "Did you see him? You shut him up! That's, like, unprecedented! I need to learn how to do that."

"I'm getting all sweaty," Kendra said. "Am I all red?"

"A little pink," Casey said.

"Is my makeup, like, totally gone?" Kendra asked. "I think I need a touch up."

"Okay," Casey said, grinning. "You do that, and I'll go make sure he's not tying all my shoes together."

"Uh-huh," Kendra said. "BRB."

_BRB?_ Casey thought. _Do people really talk like that?_ Out of habit, she picked his pillow up off the floor and put it back where it went. She picked up his magazine too. _Maxim_, she thought. _Typical. Still. At least it's not Playboy. _

She got back to her room to see Derek bent over her desk, rebooting her computer. She flopped onto the bed to watch him. He looked up.

"Oh, it's just you," he signed. She grinned.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"You," she signed. "And K-E-N-D-R-A. Sitting in a tree."

"Shut it," he signed, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Marti had just taught her that one. She didn't think she'd use it so soon.

"You misspelled that," Derek said.

"No I didn't," Casey said. Then she stopped to think about it, and Derek knew that that was what she was doing, so he laughed.

"Ooh I hear laughing," Kendra said, coming back into the room. "That's good, right?"

"Usually not when _he_ does it," Casey said.

"What was the name of the file?" Derek asked.

"French project 2," Casey said.

"Okay," Derek said, clicking on it. It came up and he quickly scrolled to the bottom of the last page. "That everything?"

Casey peeked over his shoulder. Her hair got in his face and he made a show of spitting it out. Most of their work saved, thankfully, but he didn't know that.

"No," she lied. "We lost half of it!"

"No way," Kendra said. Casey winked. "What are we gonna do?"

"We're dead," Casey said. "It's due tomorrow."

"No it's not," Derek said. "Stop lying; you're not good at it."

"Are _you_ in our class?" Casey asked. "I don't think so."

"It's marked on your calendar," Derek said, pointing behind him.

"Busted," Kendra said.

"But, we just lost _all that work_," Casey said. "I don't know about Kendra, but I'm not looking forward to all that re-writing."

"Like you said," Derek said. "I'm not in your class. And even if I were, you don't want _me_ re-doing it. I'm lucky I know English."

"Oh believe me, I don't want you doing any of my work. I know better than that," Casey said. "All the teachers would think I hit my head or something."

"So why're you trying to guilt me?"Derek asked.

"I'm not," Casey said.

"Oh no?" Kendra said through her teeth.

"I just think I'm gonna need a little extra time to re-construct this thing, and all of my chores might get in the way."

"Oooh, nice try," Derek said.

"Do you want Kendra to think you're an unsupportive brother?" Casey asked.

"Hmm?" Kendra asked. "Oh yeah. That would make me...sad."

"Well, you I can make it up to later," Derek told Kendra.

Casey groaned.

"Ooh," Kendra said. "What did you have in mind?"

"What're you doing now?" Derek asked. "Want to go for pizza?"

"My grandma's coming for dinner tonight," Kendra said. "You're not going to the Clash of the Bands tomorrow, are you?"

"I am, actually," Derek said.

"Want pizza after that?" Kendra asked.

"Okay," Derek said.

"What's the sign for pizza?" Kendra asked, going into flirt overdrive.

"Um, okay," Derek said. He was trying to look nonchalant, but she had more or less charmed the pants off him, Casey could tell.

"You make the letter P with one hand." He showed her. "Then you draw a Z in the air."

Kendra tried and got it right. Derek winked.

_Enough already_, Casey thought.

"I should take a class," Kendra said. "I've always wanted to. What do you think, Case?"

"If you like," Casey said. _Yep, she's always wanted to. Ever since three minutes ago._ _I give her a week, _she thought.

"You take one, right?" Kendra asked. "What's yours like?"

_Gives me headaches,_ Casey thought. "It's okay," she said.

"It's really hard, right?" Kendra asked.

Casey shrugged.

"She doesn't practice enough," Derek said.

"Busted again," Kendra said. Casey smiled unconvincingly. She liked Kendra, she really did. But she was in a bad mood suddenly, and wished that she'd go away.

"She can curse with the best of them, though," Derek said.

"Unless you want a demonstration, _Derek_," Casey said. "You should really get lost. Some of us still have work to do."

"Jeez, Keener, take a break," Derek said. "Don't give yourself an ulcer until at least grade 12."

"What time is it?" Kendra asked.

"5:13" Derek said, glancing at his watch.

"I need to get going," Kendra said. "My Bubbeh doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Derek made a "huh" face, and Casey signed "Grandmother." He nodded.

"See you guys tomorrow," Kendra said, wiggling into her jacket.

Derek walked with her to the end of the block, at which point she shooed him back toward the house. Casey saw the whole thing from her window.


	22. Chapter 22

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

A/N: Terrible emo lyrics sung by The Youth in Revolt are by yours truly. *dodges tomatoes*

Chapter Twenty-two.

Part One: Casey.

At lunch, Kendra had shown up at their table and asked Casey to teach her some ASL pickup lines. Casey nearly choked on her sandwich.

"Pick up lines?" Casey asked.

"What?" Kendra said. "It'd be funny."

"Or really cheeseball," Emily said.

"Of course it's cheeseball," Kendra said. "Doesn't cheeseball work on you once in a while? Works on me."

"I guess," Emily said, shrugging.

Sheldon Schlepper, sitting a couple of seats down as usual, took the opportunity to get up, cross to the other side of the table where Emily was sitting, kneel, and say, "Did it hurt?"

Kendra snorted.

"Did what hurt?" Emily asked, deciding to play along. Though Casey was sure everyone knew what he was going to say next.

"Falling from heaven?" Sheldon said. He almost couldn't get it out without laughing.

"Is that a mirror in your pocket?" Emily asked straight-faced. "Because I can see myself in your pants."

"Oh my God!" Casey said. Her face felt really hot. She put her cool hands on her cheeks, thinking it would help.

"I can't believe you went there," Sheldon said, wide-eyed. "You are so beyond awesome."

"Of course I am," Emily said, taking a dainty bite of her lunch.

"See, that's what I mean," Kendra said. "Something like that would crack him up."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Casey said, still blushing. "But my ASL skills would barely get me directions to the bathroom. Maybe Em knows."

"You know ASL, Em?" Kendra asked.

"Really?" Sheldon asked.

"Not much more than Casey," Emily said. "We can piece it together, but it might take a while."

She began to demonstrate signs like "mirror," "pocket," and "pants," but it was taking way too long.

"Why don't you just go with 'Come here often?'" Emily asked.

"I was hoping to be more creative," Kendra said. "But given the time constraints...you know that one, right?"

"Yep," Emily said, demonstrating.

Casey looked over her shoulder quickly to make sure no one could see what they were doing and ruin the surprise. She turned back when she was sure they were safe.

"You're really gonna do that?" Casey asked.

"Uh, _yeah_," Kendra said, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. The girl had more nerve than any two people Casey knew. But then again, time would tell if she'd actually do it.

People had to pull teeth to get Casey to sign. She and Lizzie had actually planned to do a whole proper greeting back in August when they met Derek. Casey had wussed out of it immediately, but Lizzie might have done something if not for the whole punking thing. Plus she didn't practice enough, especially since she broke up with Sam.

So while Casey knew how to piece together "Come here often," she let Emily do it. Then she was relieved when the bell rang, and on the way to French, Kendra began to tease Emily.

"So? Major flirtage with the Schlepper," Kendra said. "What's _that_ like?"

Emily gave her a dirty look. It occurred to Casey that they really _were_ flirting. _Of all the people to flirt with_, she thought. Then berated herself for being mean, even if it was only in her mind. There was probably a reason for the flirting, even if Casey herself couldn't imagine what it was.

But, for once, she kept her mouth shut. She knew a few people who might die of shock at the idea of her comments to herself.

After the last bell, she stopped at her locker to pick up her camera and met Kendra and Emily at the door to room 110, which was marked, hilariously, "Green Room." She took a picture of the hand-lettered sign.

When Emily opened the door, the three of them were assaulted by the sound of a couple of kids singing "Mommy made me mash my m&ms."

"What the—" Kendra said.

Casey giggled in recognition. Then shivered. She scanned the room for people she knew, spotting Sam, then following his sight-line straight to Derek, who was keeping three girls busy.

"Oooh," Kendra said. "Someone needs rescuing."

_Funny,_ Casey thought. _Seems like he's having a good time to me. _Casey looked over to say as much to Emily and noticed that she was gone. Which left Casey by herself, knowing very few people in the room. She caught Sam's eye, and he nodded. Politely. If she went over to talk to him, he would put up with her because he was nothing if not kind, but she decided, she'd just as soon let him be.

She watched Kendra walk up to Derek, run her hands up his back until he turned to her and sign her pickup line perfectly. He laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek in welcome. The girls who had been circling him took the hint. It was like something right out of the Discovery Channel.

After watching that spectacle, Casey went off in search of someone, _anyone_ to hang with. Em was M.I.A, probably looking for a musician to hit on, and that left Casey with few options. She could either stay where she was, or she could mingle.

She hated mingling. But, she remembered that she was only there to take pictures in the first place, and that helped her confidence.

She approached the cluster of girls who'd just left Derek. "Hi," she said. "I'm Casey and I'm with the yearbook—" They walked away from her. "aaand okay, bye."

Next, she tried this impossibly cool looking guy who, if she had it right was Emcee-ing the whole thing. He at least smiled at her and made an excuse before he walked away.

"Casey!" Ralph said, waving her over. She never thought she'd be so happy to see him. And he took total advantage of her gratitude and gave her a tight, lingering hug. The goth kid next to him thought it was funny.

"Ahem," he said, after the hug went on for a few seconds too many.

"Oh yeah," Ralph said, letting go. "So this is Trevor. Trevor-Casey, Casey-Trevor. And the pacing guy is Johnny. Say hi, Johnny."

"Hi" Johnny said, not looking up as he continued to pace.

"At least he didn't say 'Hi Johnny,'" Casey said.

"Nope," Trevor said. "That would require a sense of humor."

"Kiss my ass," Johnny said.

"I'd have to find it first," Trevor said.

"_You _should talk," Johnny said. "Unless that _is_ your ass with all that makeup on it."

Casey was a little worried about what she might have started when both boys cracked up.

"You suck," Trevor said.

"You _wish_," Johnny said.

"Aaanyway," Casey said, reminding them that she was there. "Over here? I'm from the yearbook. Taking pictures?"

"Derek kind of already got to us," Johnny began, until Ralph whacked him on the shoulder. "But what the heck, I love pictures. The more the merrier."

"Okay," she said. They posed for her, two out of three trying to look brooding. Ralph couldn't pull off brooding and he knew it, so did his best to look semi-serious. Then, he gave up on that and flirted with the camera. When she took individual shots of them, Ralph's turned out the best, followed by Trevor, who might actually be really good-looking under all that guyliner. Johnny was cute enough, Casey thought, but too jittery to photograph well. Plus his hair was really long and he had a tendency to hide behind it.

"So _you're_ Derek's stepsister," Trevor said.

"Why?" Casey asked. "What'd he tell you?"

"Derek?" Trevor asked. "Nothing. It was _this_ one." He indicated Ralph. "Talking about how you won't go out with him."

Ralph pouted.

"Sorry Ralphie," Casey said.

"Can I at least have another hug?" Ralph said.

Casey glared. He pretended to be frightened off.

"So do you think Derek got shots of most of the people here?" Casey asked.

"No idea," Trevor said. "I'm guessing you don't wanna try the Yard of Blonde Girls again, you know, after they dissed you the first time." He nodded toward the girls who'd been all over Derek before.

"Yard of Blonde Girls, huh?" Casey said, getting the reference. "'Gold Sharks Glittering.' It fits."

"I can't believe you got that," Trevor said.

"_You_ got a Buckley reference?" Johnny said, showing real interest for the first time.

"What," Casey said. "I look like a musical ignoramus or something?"

"No," Trevor said. "I'm just used to people looking at me funny when I toss out a reference like that. Last one to get it was Schlep." He pointed to Sheldon, who was, if Casey wasn't mistaken, _macking_ on Emily. She recognized the behavior from Derek, especially the intense, you're-the-only-one-in-the-room eye contact. Derek, by necessity, was big on eye contact and deep focus on anyone who was talking to him, but when he flirted it was way more intense, and this was the look Sheldon Schlepper was giving her best friend.

"Oh my gosh," Casey said.

Before anyone could ask what she was oh my goshing about, Mrs. Zeldin came in and called the first act, LBD, they were called, to the stage. The girls in the black dresses ran out, followed by everyone else who wanted to watch from the wings.

She almost caught up with Emily and Sheldon in the hallway, but Sam distracted her.

"This is total chaos isn't it?" he asked.

"Total," Casey agreed.

"Did you get pictures?" he asked.

"Some," she said. "I'm gonna need a lot more. Supposedly, Derek's been snapping away."

"Well, we can't have him get more than you, can we?" Sam said.

"No, we cannot," Casey said. Sam chuckled.

"Let's see if we can't squeeze in and get a spot in front, then," Sam said.

"Ha," Casey said. "'Squeeze in.' You're so _cute_." That morning, Derek had predicted that it would be dead. That nobody really cared about this, especially since it was being held on a Monday. Casey believed him, but was surprised when she and Sam passed through the double doors of the cafeteria and saw what looked like more than a hundred kids in there. Not a crowd by any means; it would be a challenge to get a decent mosh going if that was what people wanted to do. And crowd surfing would be a joke. But it was a decent group and they all looked interested in these three girls and their cover of "If It's Lovin' That You Want."

Even though they were singing to what might actually have been...

"Is that a _Karaoke track_?" Sam said in her ear.

"I think so!" Casey said, laughing.

Stewey Stevenson and his accordion of doom were next. The crowd went dead. A few people were decent enough to clap for him but that almost made it worse. Until they recognized the song he was playing as "Mr Brightside." Then, he got some appreciation.

Then there was Ralphie's band, The Youth in Revolt. Casey knew this because of the sudden increase in volume of Sam's voice.

"WooHOO!" he said.

Casey jumped in shock and disbelief that that sound could have come out of him. He caught her staring, blushed, and looked away.

_Not cute,_ Casey tried to tell herself. _Not cute at all._

Meanwhile, onstage, Johnny shook some of that curtain of hair out of his face, with partial success, and began to sing.

"With my entire soul/I want what I can't have/ Knowing that/cannot stop me/ from trying for it anyway..." His voice was a basic emo tenor, squeaky, a little unsure of itself. He was a better guitar player.

"Just no point in denying it..." Trevor joined in. He was much better. Casey wondered why he wasn't the lead.

And Ralph beat the ever living hell out of his drums.

A flash went off in Casey's face.

"De-_rek_!" she said, jumping again.

"Couldn't resist," Derek signed. "That look on your face. Her too." He pointed to Kendra who was transfixed as Casey was.

Casey rolled her eyes and turned back to the stage.

"No point in denying it/ Just gonna give it another shot/Again and again and again..." Trevor and Johnny sang.

Something bumped her shoulder from the other side. She looked up, ready to yell at Derek again, but found a giggly Emily instead.

"They're awesome, aren't they?" Emily said.

"Really," Casey agreed.

Emily waved at Derek, who took her picture, then put the camera into his pocket and came up a little closer to her. He took her chin in his left hand and wiped at the skin around her mouth with the right. He help his fingers up to the light coming off the stage to show his fingers glittering with smeared lipgloss. First, he made a shame on you gesture, then he signed: "What are you up to?"

"Shut up, Derek!" Emily said, still giggling.

"Sorry," he signed. "Too dark. Don't understand."

"You're a jerk," Emily signed.

"Thanks," Derek signed, laughing. "Who is it? Do I approve?"

She flipped him off. He laughed again.

"I know," Casey signed, quickly, making sure no one was paying attention to her clumsy signing.

"Shut up!" Emily tried to say, but got swallowed up by the applause for The Youth in Revolt.

_Dammit, I missed half the song! _Casey thought.

Up came Mr. Too Cool for You Grade Twelve Emcee to take the microphone.

"So, whatchy'all think of that?" he said. "Awesome, right? So next up we have Sheldon Schlepper singing...an original song."

Dead silence. Sheldon ignored it, played his keyboard and started to sing.

_Lout? _Casey thought. _Did he just use the word 'lout' in a song? _

And just like that he won over the whole room. She'd never seen anything like it. He kicked the chair out from under himself when he really got into the song, and she didn't even want to laugh.

Derek had sense enough to put his arms around Kendra from behind as she listened.

_Good boy_, Casey thought. _Smarter than I thought he was._

Casey and Emily were momentarily distracted as Ralph put an arm around each of them. He might have figured that they were too into the song to notice that he was sweaty. Casey elbowed him, to his amusement. Emily was a little more polite, giving him a brief squish before wiggling away.

But really, Emily was lost to all. And, for the first time, Casey started to think that she understood why.

Part Two: Sam.

Both Casey and Derek had to stay a little bit after the actual Clash of the Bands ended and the crowd dispersed to take pictures of the winner. Sam, having nothing better to do, hung around. He wanted to talk to Casey anyway.

Sheldon narrowly beat The Youth in Revolt. He was pretty on top of the world until he heard that he needed his picture taken. _Again_. Mrs. Zeldin posed with him quickly and made him hold a plaque that didn't have his name on it yet. That, based on the look on the kid's face, was bad enough. But then he had to deal with his weepy older sister and his older brother who was laughing at the both of them.

"Congratulations again, Sweetheart," Mrs. Zeldin said, to Sheldon's endless embarrassment. "You really deserve it."

Then she flounced off.

Derek, who might actually _be_ the Devil, snapped shot after shot as Sheldon stood there in horror, with Shawna Schlepper crying and hugging, and Shawn Schlepper striking a delicate balance between laughing at Shawna and hugging.

"You guys are a huggy bunch, aren't you?" Kendra asked.

"Yes, we are," Shawn said.

"I really hope I'm adopted," Sheldon said.

"No such luck, Lout," Shawna said, sniffing.

"Oy," Sheldon said.

"_Lout_," Casey said, snickering. "How could I forget about that?"

"Yeah," Shawn said. "My little bro's not exactly a moon/June/spoon sort of a guy, is he?"

"Guess not," Casey said.

"Now if you just come up with a _title_," Emily said, coming out from the wings.

"Busted," Shawn said.

"Yeah, okay, so I suck at titles," Sheldon said. When she got to him, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. It was the single boldest move any of them had seen him make.

"What is _this_?" Derek said, picking up his camera again. This time, Casey had hers ready, too.

Emily tried to hide her face, but Sheldon ignored them. "And it doesn't help that I was in no mood to sing that song anymore."

"And why's that?" Emily asked.

"Gee, I dunno," Sheldon said. A flash went off, and Sheldon, for the first time in about three years, found use for the one non-alphabet sign that Derek and Ralph had taught him, back in elementary school.

"Dickhead!"

"It was _her_ this time," Derek said, pointing to Casey. It had been _both_ of them, Sam knew.

"My finger slipped," Casey said, trying to look sorry.

"Likely story," Derek said.

"It _did_," Casey lied. He bumped her.

"Oops," he said. "My shoulder slipped."

"Stop being an ass," Casey said, not moving away.

Sam wondered how much of this Kendra was noticing. It really didn't seem like she saw much. It didn't take Nostradamus to predict how bad it could get when she did notice.

"Hey, where do you guys think _you're_ going?" Casey said, catching Sheldon and Emily as they tried to slink out.

"Away?" Emily said.

"Nuh-uh," Casey said. "We're not done yet."

"And why exactly aren't we done?" Sheldon asked.

Casey grinned evilly. "Because I still have room on this memory card."

Sheldon turned to his brother and sister, who were enjoying this. "How much are you paying her?"

"More than _you_ can afford to match," Shawn said.

Sam felt for the kid. His older sisters loved to torment him, especially since he was the only boy, so all of this felt very familiar. If anything, Sheldon had it a little worse, being the youngest in his family.

"C'mon, Ben Gibbard," Shawn said. "The burgers are on me."

"Who?" Derek asked.

"Ben Gibbard. Singer-songwriter," Sam signed. "Death Cab for Cutie."

Derek nodded. "Casey likes them," he signed. "What just made him happier? The burgers or the comparison?"

"Hard to tell," Sam signed.

"Derry?" Kendra asked, tapping Derek. "Are you ready to go?"

_Derry?_ Sam thought.

"I'm ready," Derek said. "You ready?"

"Definitely," Kendra said. "Sam, you and Casey should come with us."

"Huh?" Derek said. "Nah, they don't want to come with us."

Some demon that lived in Sam's brain said, "I don't have anything better to do. Kinda hungry."

Derek glared.

"Casey?" Kendra asked.

"Um," Casey said, skeptically. She was going to beg off.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something," Sam said.

"So you can talk over pizza," Kendra said. "It's all settled. Got my Mom's car, and I'm just aching to fill it up, so let's go."

"Great," Derek said, shooting Sam another look. Sam pretended to be completely oblivious and since Derek couldn't do much without attracting attention, he let him.

Most people went to Smelly Nellie's directly from school, and Sam assumed that that was where the Schleppers took Emily. Kendra, knowing that the regular hangout would be packed, chose a slightly less overloaded pizza place. When they got there, Sam finally felt a little twinge of guilt and decided to beg off when Kendra tried to get him and Casey to share a booth with them.

Casey led him to a table.

"So, did you really want to talk to me or were you just trying to bug Derek?" she asked.

"The bugging Derek was just an added bonus," Sam said.

"They're being all cute over there," Casey said, nodding toward the booth that Derek and Kendra were squeezed into. "I was afraid he was gonna blow it before it even started."

"You think?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "They're having a good time."

Sam turned.

"No!" Casey said. "Don't make it so obvious that you're looking!"

Sam turned anyway.

"He's stressed," Sam said.

"Stressed?" Casey asked. "He doesn't look—"

"Okay," Sam said. "He's smiling, all tight like this." He demonstrated.

"Yeah," Casey said. "That's exactly it."

"I know," Sam said. "Believe me, I know that face. He's uncomfortable."

"Well, this is a first date," Casey said. "Sorta. So he'd be a little uncomfortable. What's so weird about that?"

"Ever seen him do it before?" Sam asked.

"Not really," Casey said. "That line between his eyes is showing up." She rubbed the spot between her own eyebrows. "Why's he acting like that?"

"He's having trouble reading her lips, I think," Sam said. "And he's trying to play it off."

"Since when does he have that much trouble reading lips?" Casey said. "And if it_ is_ hard for him, why doesn't he just stop her and tell her to slow down? He tells _me_ to repeat stuff all the time."

"He trusts _you_," Sam said. "And he's an idiot. I'd love to know what he's gonna do when she asks a question that needs an actual response, 'cause no matter how much this girl loves to talk, she'll notice sooner or later that he's out of the loop."

"Should we do something?" Casey asked. "What should we do?"

"No," Sam said. "We let him hang himself. He doesn't do it too often, but when he does, it's really funny. Ralph's gonna be pissed that he didn't get to see it."

"That's horrible," Casey said. "I thought you were his friend."

"I'm his best friend," Sam said. "I mean, okay, maybe I'm a little sadistic, but he needs to learn not to freakin do that. I can't be bailing him out. You probably wanna lay off him when you get home, though, because it looks like he's gonna have a massive headache. I really didn't wanna talk about him, right now. How'd it happen?"

"Because you care," Casey said. "And as such, you wanna go talk to him while I talk to Kendra in the ladies room, right?"

"No," Sam said. Though he did want to. But he wasn't going to. And for once, he decided, he wasn't going to mention the big white elephant in the room, even though he pictured said elephant sitting by itself in a booth eating biscotti and drinking espresso out of those tiny cups. He was not going to say anything about Derek possibly being a little more difficult with this perfectly cute girl because he didn't really want to be with _her_ when there was Casey around.

That was no longer his problem though.

"I wanted to talk about you," Sam said.

"Me?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I missed you." This was something that he would never have blurted out so easily if he weren't trying to change the subject.

"I missed you too," Casey said.

"We probably shouldn't be together," Sam said. He shouldn't have said probably. Best not to admit what a sap he was.

"No," Casey said. "You're right about that, I guess."

_You guess?_ Sam thought. _Stop that, you giant pussy._

"Uh-huh," Sam said.

"So we should be friends, shouldn't we?" Casey said. "We'd make really good friends."

"So does that mean you're buying your own veggie slice?" Sam asked. She beaned him with a breadstick.

"What?" Sam said. "Thought you were a feminist."

"Thought you were a gentleman," Casey said.

"Only on dates," Sam said.


	23. Chapter 23

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-three.

Part One: Nora.

Nora planned to try out a new recipe outside the presence of Derek, and so was dismayed when he and Casey came in before they were all done with dinner. She'd really hoped to get an honest opinion about her _arroz con pollo _without Derek's theatrical air sniffing and nose wrinkling. It was funny; he made all this fuss about the lousy cooking of the family at large, but he always had seconds, if not thirds.

And tonight was no exception. He came in, having already had who knew how much pizza, and managed to load up a plate with chicken. He dug right in and dodged every attempt that she and George made to engage him in conversation.

Casey, luckily was more accommodating. She poured herself a glass of milk, grabbed a dinner roll and sat down at her place at the table.

"How'd it go?" Nora asked. She was dying to know.

Casey took a second to marvel at Derek's food shoveling talent before she answered.

"Um," she said. "It was really great actually."

"Who won?" George asked. "Ralph's band?" Ralph was the natural one to root for, especially since he was the only one they knew who was competing.

"Nope. Sheldon Schlepper," Casey said. "Ralph is really good though. I had no idea."

"Okay," Nora said. "This Sheldon...cute?"

"Well," Casey said. "Emily thinks so."

"Okay, definite story there, but we'll save that for later. How about _you_? Run into anybody cute?" Nora asked.

"Noraaa," Edwin said. "We're eating?"

Nora smiled, because torturing one's kids can be fun. "Anybody you might maybe wanna, oh I don't know. _Kiss_?"

"Ew," Edwin said. "Ow!" Lizzie kicked him under the table.

"Be civilized," Lizzie said. "So was Sam there?"

Nora groaned inwardly.

"Yeah," Casey said.

"Wanna talk about it?" Nora asked.

"We're okay," Casey said.

"You're back together?" Marti squeaked. Nora could picture her planning the wedding again.

"No," Casey said. "But we're talking. We're gonna just be friends."

Derek snorted. He'd been so quiet that Nora had forgotten he was there for a minute.

"How is that funny?" Casey asked.

"It is _so_ funny," Derek said. "The two of you as friends. Joined by your mutual love of torturing me."

"There is that," Casey said, grinning. She took a bite of her roll. Edwin looked from her to Derek.

"That's it?" Edwin asked. "You're not gonna tell us _how_ you tortured Derek?"

Lizzie, Marti and George turned to Casey with interest. Derek rolled his eyes as Casey continued to munch.

"What are you waiting for?" Derek said.

"Be patient," she signed while her mouth was still full.

"Drama queen," Derek signed.

"Okay, well," Casey began. "Kendra was nice enough to invite me and Sam to go for pizza with her and Derek."

"You were supposed to say no," Derek said.

"And hurt Kendra's feelings?" Casey asked. "We had separate tables. It's not like we were all up in your grill."

Derek, after a beat, wrinkled his nose. "_What_?"

Casey giggled. Edwin translated after one failed attempt by Casey. Nora was impressed. Casey _never_ signed this much.

"In our grill?" Derek asked. "That's what I thought you said. I was worried that I was losing it."

"This from someone who never had it," Casey said.

"Guys," Nora said without much hope of actually getting them to stop. Though, it turned out that she was jumping the gun. Derek rolled his eyes and said nothing, turned back to his rice and beans.

Casey's eyebrows knit together as she reached over and tapped him. "You tired?" she signed, seeming actually concerned for a change.

"Bored," Derek signed. But now that Casey mentioned it, he _did_ look tired.

"Whatever," Casey signed back. This really was a new record for her. Nora made a mental note to ask her why she suddenly wanted to actually practice her signing.

"Wanna taste a little of this chicken, Casey?" George asked. "You know, before_ I _eat it all?"

That was George's way of complimenting Nora's cooking. She beamed at him.

Nora hopped up and fixed Casey a small plate, ignoring her protests about having already had pizza and half of Sam's Jamaican beef pattie.

Casey nibbled while Lizzie and Edwin argued about whose turn it was to do the dishes.

"I did them last night," Lizzie said.

"I did them Friday," Edwin said. "_And_ Saturday."

Edwin looked pointedly at Casey, leading Nora to wonder if maybe Casey didn't owe him money for Saturday's dishes. Casey, for her part, pretended not to notice his eyes burning holes into her head.

If Nora wasn't mistaken, it was actually Derek's turn, but, looking at the state of him, there was no way that was going to happen. Normally, as dinner wound down, this would be Derek's time to try to get someone else to do the dishes or take out the garbage or whatever it was his turn to do, but he wasn't bothering. He had the same squinty look that Casey got whenever she read whole books in one sitting or when Edwin tried to beat Lizzie's high score in _Grand Theft Auto_ part whatever. Or when Marti tried to stay up past her bedtime. Nora didn't know how it was possible for all of them to make the exact same face, but she did know that she wanted pictures of all of them doing that at some point.

Which reminded her. "Casey, did you get a lot of pictures?"

"Uh-huh," Casey said. "I'll show you after _I do the dishes_ I guess."

She looked right at Derek when she said this, clearly showing that she knew it was his turn and showing her unselfishness by Doing Him a Favor, but got absolutely no reaction from him. Nora loved her, but wow could she ever be a dumbass. As if Derek were going to get down on his knees in gratitude, even if he _were_ currently firing on all cylinders.

"How about you wash and I dry," Nora said. "And then you can show me pictures and dish on Derek and Kendra."

Derek caught that. Nora could tell, but he didn't say anything. He might have been afraid that anything that he said could result in him having to do the dishes after all. So very cute and so very transparent, he was. Just like his father.

Part Two: Derek.

There was something on TV that Derek wanted to watch but damned if he could remember what it was. He reasoned that it was probably a movie or something that would be rerun, and if it wasn't, he really couldn't care less. He wasn't much in the mood for TV, or anything else that required attention. He wanted to load the pictures into his computer, too, but that would wait.

He had a headache; that was unavoidable with all the bass thumping and the trying to lipread in low lighting. Plus there was the fact that Kendra talked at the speed of light, but it wasn't so bad. It was like an ice cream headache, the type that would never stop you from guzzling your milkshake too fast. The kind you looked forward to.

Plus, Nora and Casey took pity on him and did his dishes. All in all, not a terrible day.

Kendra, at one point had leaned over and accidentally (on purpose? One could only hope) flashed a little bit of pink lacy bra at him. Then she blushed and that was the best part, the blushing and the hiding the face, making _him_ pull her hands away from her eyes.

But she really enjoyed the camera, making a candid shot of her a challenge. What he would've given to get a shot of that blush. Casey, he was able to get some good non-posed shots of. She was so off in her own world watching Emily flirt with Schlepper, talking to Sam, not noticing that three or four people, Ralph included, hit on her, that having her picture taken was the last thing on her mind. Sam saw it, though, that was a problem. Sam was so damn observant.

His thoughts were interrupted by something extremely cold on his abdomen. He sat up and his eyes flew open to see Casey jerk backward reflexively, bowl of ice cream in hand.

"Where you goin with that?" Derek said. She handed it to him. He looked at the bowl and saw all that was good in the world—chocolate ice cream, chocolate syrup, cookies and whipped cream. In her hand was a bowl with plain ice cream and precisely two cookies, like a garnish, like the serving suggestion on the ice cream box.

"Is that for me too?" he asked.

"You wish," she said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"Did I invite you to stay or something?" he said.

She rolled her eyes and got up, but he reached for the back of her shirt and pulled her back.

"You have no sense of humor," he said. "How does that even happen?"

She put her bowl down, out of his reach, and signed "Maybe you're not funny."

"Bite your tongue," Derek signed. "I'm the king of funny."

"Whatever," Casey signed.

"Is that your new favorite word?" Derek signed. "Whatever?" He grabbed a cookie, mushed as much ice cream as possible onto it and shoved the whole thing into his mouth, enjoying both the tooth freeze and the look of disgust on Casey's face.

And once again, the camera was unavailable when he needed it. That face would have made such a great wallpaper for his computer. He also wondered how she'd react if he kissed her with a mouth full of cold goo.

_No, no, no, _he thought. _That is the kind of thought we do not have anymore. Unacceptable thought process. _He shook his head to clear it.

"What's the matter?" Casey signed.

"Brain freeze," he signed. But she didn't get it so he said, "Brain freeze."

"How could you tell?" Casey asked.

"What, 'cause I don't have a brain?" Derek asked. "Cute," he signed. "Obvious, but cute."

Casey tried to sign something that looked like "Obvious for a reason," but garbled it a little.

"Whatever," Derek signed, making Casey laugh.

"You and Kendra, huh?" Casey signed.

Derek shrugged.

"Sittin in a tree," Casey signed. He put ice cream on her nose.

"I think it's past your bedtime, Casey," Derek said.

"De-_rek_!" Casey said. He supposed he was lucky that she didn't have the imagination to dump the last of her ice cream down his pants or something. Or maybe she just didn't want to waste her ice cream on him. Her face fought between anger and the giggles. She wiped the chocolate off her nose, but couldn't think of a way to get rid of it. She was looking around the room for a tissue box or something. Not that he didn't have one under the bed, but he wasn't going to help the amateur. Didn't she know she was supposed to wipe it off on _him_ someplace?

_That's another one of those thoughts, D. Stop it, _he thought. _She needs to go to her room already. _

That was when she wiped her hand off in his hair.

"Oh hell no," he tried to say, but he was laughing too hard. It was _on_. But she must have sensed that and in a rare display of sense, she ran into her room and shut the door.

Leaving her ice cream behind. Inspiration hit. He picked it up and went over and knocked on her door.

Part Three: Casey.

Casey's heart thudded in her chest; she was really gonna get it now.

She opened her door the tiniest of cracks, so he could see in, but have absolutely no access. If she had a security chain she would have used it.

"You forgot this," he said.

"You spit in it or something?" she asked.

He made a shocked face. "Such a low opinion of me," he said.

"Or you'll just mush it in my face," Casey said.

Derek laughed. "Me?" he asked.

Casey thought about what Sam had said earlier about Derek's tendency to bluff rather than admit he didn't always understand what people said. Sam would definitely know Derek better than most, but she couldn't quite make herself believe it. He so clearly understood her even though he was tired. And she knew he was tired because of his speech. The letter /s/ was turning into /sh/ again. Normally it was all but unnoticeable. Now it was still subtle. She couldn't imitate it, but she'd gotten the shivers even before he'd smeared her with ice cream because he called her Kay-shee again. It didn't happen that often, maybe once every two or three days, but she found herself looking forward to it. It was like their thing.

"Earth to Kay-shee," Derek said.

_Okay, seriously, is he doing that on purpose now?_ She thought.

"You really wanna give up all this chocolate?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just put it down and step away from the door."

He laughed again. "Dork," he said, as he put the bowl on the floor in front of him. He put his hands up and backed away slowly, like a suspect in a bank robbery. She couldn't help but smile, as much as she didn't want to.

"Sure you didn't put a laxative in it or something?" she asked.

"Ooh, now why didn't I think of that?" Derek said. "I must be slipping."

"That wasn't meant to give you ideas," Casey said.

"Ah but it did," he said. Then he looked at her like she was an idiot. "Please, you could put someone in the hospital with that, and I'm not trying to get arrested, either."

That made sense. She crouched down and picked up the bowl, poking around in the half melted ice cream with her spoon to check for plastic bugs, or, God forbid, real ones, while he continued to laugh.

"Night, Casey," he said. She smiled in spite of herself.

"Night D," she signed.

Earlier, her Mom had asked her what was up with all the signing, but the answer was pretty simple. She was tired of being so bad at it, and, over their pizza, Sam told her (again) that the only way she'd get better was by practicing.

"Do I have to start tutoring you again?" He said it in such a "do I have to turn this car around" way that she had to laugh.

"Maybe," Casey said.

"Maybe I do," Sam said. "Derek's not enough of a pain in the ass."

Casey looked at him for a moment, head cocked to the side. "I want you to replay what you just said back in your mind."

"Yeah, okay," Sam said. "He's an epic pain in the ass in all other aspects of life, and I say that as his best friend, but, and I've told you this before, he's not gonna push you too hard on this because if he pisses you off enough, you'll quit, he thinks."

"Right," Casey said, rolling her eyes. "Like he doesn't piss me off every day. The dumbass." She stole a peek at Derek and Kendra in the booth they shared a few feet away. It looked like she was reading his palm._ Could she be any more obvious?_ Casey thought.

Sam shrugged. "So, ready for the next phase?"

"You have a 'next phase?'" Casey asked.

"Sorta," Sam said. "I might or might not be pulling it out of my ass. It's not like I've ever taught anybody anything before. But I think I have an idea."

"Should I be worried?"

"I would," Sam said.

"What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking we'd have sort of a mini-immersion program," Sam said.

"Oh God no," Casey said.

"Hear me out," Sam said. "I know what you're thinking, and no I'm not going to make you go days at a time without talking or anything. Jeez."

"Well I'm glad you know that that's not gonna happen," Casey said, relieved.

"I value my life too much to make you do that," Sam said. "I don't even think Derek could do it."

Casey thought about that and decided that Sam was right. Derek loved to talk. He could go for long periods of time without doing so, but if you _told_ him not to, God help you.

"No," Casey said. "He really couldn't. You probably could."

"I _totally_ could," Sam said. "But I won't. What I think we can do is take a few minutes here and there and practice. Like start with fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes, I have to ask you questions and you have to sign the answers. In detail if I ask you to. Then every day or so we try to do it a little longer."

Casey agreed to do it, and the next day, Sam would be making her sign, so she thought she'd practice a little beforehand. Also she was reminded of what Sam had told her about why he and Ralph signed so much. He'd told her how exhausting lipreading could be, even lipreading people who spoke clearly. Sam had compared it to reading a whole bunch of fine print on the computer. They signed, he told her, to give him a break. Casey was really ashamed of herself for not having thought of that, given the partial confirmation she'd gotten from Derek himself, falling asleep at eight thirty at night, the way he had.

But now she was going to have to be the guinea pig for the Sam Smith ASL Immersion Program, and all for someone who put ice cream on her nose and peanut butter in her slippers.

Joy.

But she was going to do it. She couldn't wait.


	24. Chapter 24

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-four.

Part One: Derek.

Kendra had the power. Derek didn't know how it happened but she had him mostly whipped in no time. He was holding doors and letting her sit in his chair and making her peanut butter sandwiches before he knew what he was doing.

But he woke up. He was funny that way.

This is not to say that he stopped being a good little Derek; he still did the door-holding, sandwich-making thing. He just started to question her judgment a little.

"But I don't get it Derry," Kendra said. "Is it really such a big deal to go to a dance with me? You don't really have to dance if you don't want to. Even though I get the feeling that you can. I just want to show you off."

_Riight_, Derek thought. _Even I'm not that stupid_.

"You just wanna go to the dance," Derek said. "Why not just go with a bunch of girls? Casey'd go with you."

"Casey's probably going with Sam," Kendra said.

"Come again?" Derek asked. "Casey and Sam?" He walked over to the window and peered out. When he turned back, Kendra asked him what he was looking for.

"Just checking for flying pigs," Derek said. "Casey and Sam? Are you kidding me?"

"What?" Kendra asked. "They make such a cute couple. And look how much time they're spending together."

"Cute couple?" Derek said. "Oh yeah, that's right. You weren't there for all the drama."

"I heard _all _about it," Kendra said.

_That's what you think_, Derek thought.

"And it seems like they're over it," Kendra said. "It happens all the time."

Derek shrugged. "It's their funeral."

An hour or so passed while they watched TV, pretended to study, and, having the living room to themselves, messed around. Casey stumbled in, stomping snow off of her boots and shivering.

_Leave it to Casey to make an entrance_, he thought.

Kendra asked where she'd been, and Casey said. "Nowhere. Out."

"With who?" Kendra asked.

"Sam," Casey shrugged.

Kendra smirked an 'I told you so'. Derek shrugged like it meant nothing to him.

Kendra said something else to Casey who shook her head and laughed.

"Nothing," Casey said. "We're _friends_."

Derek turned to Kendra who nodded like she didn't believe her and said "Oh yeah. Friends."

Derek ping-ponged back to Casey, who giggled but didn't take the bait.

"So what were you guys doing?" Casey asked.

"Kendra was trying to talk me into seeing a chick flick with her," Derek said. "After she drags me to the holiday dance, that is."

Kendra whacked him. "_Rent_ is _not_ a chick flick! Tell him, Casey."

It was Casey's turn to smirk. "Noo, not a chick flick," she said. "Just a musical."

"Exactly," Kendra said.

Derek groaned.

"Just be happy she isn't making you take her to _Pride and Prejudice_," Casey said. Then she laughed at Kendra. Derek turned and saw Kendra looking like Christmas had come early.

"No," Derek said.

"But," Kendra said.

"No," Derek said.

"Der-bear," Kendra said tracing her fingers over the logo on his t-shirt.

"Stop calling me that," Derek said.

Kendra pouted.

"Are you happy?" Derek signed to Casey.

"Yes," she signed back. She took a second to enjoy his suffering before going upstairs.

Kendra put her hand under his chin and turned his head toward her.

"I wouldn't really make you see _Pride and Prejudice_," she said.

"Okay," he said.

"Just _Rent_," she said, grinning.

He groaned.

Part Two: Casey.

Sam had been true to his word and over the past few weeks, they'd worked their way up to forty-five minute sessions at a time. Forty-five minutes in which Casey was not allowed to speak.

She never expected to make it that far. The first few days had driven her mad with frustration. And Sam never wavered. He just looked at her like he had all the time in the world.

Then that day, without her realizing it, he'd let her go for an hour. When she saw the time, she didn't know whether to hug him or hit him.

"Ow!" Sam said, rubbing his arm. "Just for that, ten more minutes."

Casey raised her fist again.

"Kidding," Sam said, starting to laugh at her. "You should just go ahead and admit that you're having a good time."

_Never_, she thought.

"Come on," Sam said. "You know it's not so bad. You're starting to get good at it."

Casey was a sucker for a compliment. Her cheeks started to get warm.

"You're lying," she said.

"Nope," he said. "It just so happens that you have an excellent teacher."

"I do," Casey said, grudgingly. "I'll give you that." It was his turn to redden.

"And Emily told me some interesting stuff yesterday," Sam said.

"Emily lies," Casey said.

"Ohhh, _really_," Sam said. "So you _didn't_ code switch on her and Sheldon out of nowhere."

Casey began to plan Emily's untimely demise. It would be justifiable homicide. No jury in the world would convict Casey if they knew what she'd said and how Emily's spilling it led to the crime.

The day before, at their lockers, Casey _might _have said: "No, _yesterday_ finish do project," out loud, in front of people, before she could stop herself. And she might have clapped her hand over her mouth.

Then Emily _might_ have said, "Ooooh?"

Sheldon, God bless him, didn't react. Didn't even blink. "Okay, so you're done with _The Lord of the Flies_ thing already? Which character did you pick, 'cause I went with Simon."

Emily stared at him.

"_What_?" he said.

"I went with Piggy," Casey said.

Casey should have known that Emily was going to tell Sam all about it.

"Why would you even be embarrassed about that?" Sam asked, bringing Casey back to earth. "That's actually a good thing, thinking in another language. Means you're a little closer to bilingual."

"I wouldn't go _that_ far," Casey said.

"I would," Sam said. "And you're _going_ to get better. So how 'bout we try an hour and fifteen minutes tomorrow?"

"Grrr," Casey said.

"Not scared of you," Sam said.

"You should be," Casey said.

"I'm sure," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "Now, do you need me to walk you home?"

"Nah," Casey said. "I'm good." She mussed his hair and went on her way.

She was glad he hadn't gone with her when she got home and found Kendra there. She, true to form, immediately started teasing Casey about hanging out with Sam.

_Wow Kendra_, Casey thought. _You must have been a lot of fun to have around in grade four. _She could just see Kendra wearing pigtails and pointing out absolutely everything she saw in a louder than necessary voice. She must have been a natural at the "She liiiikes you" dance.

But, Casey guessed, Kendra was good for Derek. He seemed happy enough. And it wasn't like she was a bad person or anything. She was kind, and the teasing had a friendly ring to it. It just bugged the hell out of Casey and she couldn't explain why.

Part Three: Lizzie.

After his piano lessons, Edwin tended to be in a bad mood.

"Grrr," he said as he slid into the backseat of the car next to Lizzie.

"So?" Lizzie said, as if the boy hadn't just growled. "How'd lessons go?" She laughed at his angry face.

"Three more weeks until you start with the new guy, Ed," George said from the front seat. "You'll live."

"I'm not so sure," Edwin said. "Has there been conclusive proof that long term exposure to secondhand garlic and mothballs _won't _kill me?"

"Yeah," George said. "Every other kid that's ever taken piano lessons with her. Nobody's died yet."

"Are you sure?" Edwin said. "Has anyone checked the inside of her bench?"

"Or the windowseat?" Lizzie asked.

"She said those were chicken bones," George said, cracking Lizzie up.

The reasoning behind Edwin's continued torment at the hands of Mrs. B. is that 1. George prepaid, and 2. Edwin will not practice unless threatened by the old lady's wrath.

George had begun to bribe Edwin to stick with it. In the front seat next to him, George had a bag from the music store and when Ed got into the car, he handed it off.

When Edwin pulled a book of sheet music from the latest Coldspray album and a book of other rock songs, both George and Lizzie were satisfied that the bribe was working. Edwin buried his nose in one of the books and didn't look up again until they got home.

"George," Lizzie said.

"Yeah."

"I don't feel like doing my homework," she said. "Can I have a new computer?"

"Nice try," George said, smiling at her from the rear-view. "Next time, don't aim so high."

When they got to the house, Lizzie made a big show of having to lead Edwin up the driveway and into the house as he continued to leaf through one of the books.

"Very funny," Edwin said without looking up or brushing her hand off of his arm. Lizzie would've thought he'd give her a little shove at least, but he didn't. He didn't miss a step either, though. He even hopped over the little patch of ice next to the footpath.

Kendra was on the couch using Derek as a chaise lounge and both of them looked up as Lizzie, Ed and George came in. Kendra looked interested; Derek, as usual looked annoyed that he didn't have the house to himself.

"What'd you guys do all day?" Kendra chirped.

"Basketball," Lizzie said.

"Awesome," Kendra said. "Edwin?"

"You don't wanna know," Edwin said.

"Just tell her about your piano lessons, Ed," Derek said, rolling his eyes.

"Ooooh," Kendra said. "You play piano? Play me something?"

Edwin cocked his head to one side like he couldn't figure out if she was kidding or not. Derek smirked at him.

"How long have you been taking lessons?" Kendra asked.

When Edwin didn't answer, Derek held up four fingers.

"Months?" Kendra asked.

Derek shook his head. "Years," he said.

"Oh my gosh," Kendra said, clapping her hands a couple of times. "How cute are _you_? You have to play something, please?"

"Um?" Edwin said.

"Pwease?" Kendra asked, giving him a puppy face. Both Derek and Lizzie laughed at Edwin's reaction.

"I didn't spend all kinds of money on sheet music today or anything," George called from the kitchen.

"See?" Kendra said. "You gotta play."

Derek nodded. "You can't say no to her. I try a lot," Derek signed.

"Huh?" Kendra said, turning to him.

"I'm agreeing with you," Derek said. She was satisfied with that and didn't see Derek make a face behind her back.

Edwin rolled his eyes and gave up. Kendra hopped off of Derek and went over to the piano. She started poking through the music he had and picked something.

Derek stretched out on the couch, like he liked having the room. Lizzie would have thought he'd enjoy being all wrapped up in girl the way he'd been. _Shows how much I know,_ she thought.

Lizzie climbed onto the spot Kendra left, and Derek gave her a half-hearted push and signed "Who invited you?"

Lizzie, unable to think of a comeback that she could remember how to sign, stuck her tongue out.

"Okay, okay," Edwin said. "The first thing I learned to play." Derek leaned over the back of the couch to see if he could read Edwin's lips from where he was.

It didn't work.

"First thing he learned," Lizzie mouthed. "Should we be scared?"

Derek nodded.

Edwin banged out the opening to Linkin Park's "In the End" making Kendra squeal. Not that you couldn't walk into any music store and find a kid playing that exact thing on the displayed keyboards or anything.

Kendra who noticed that Derek might have been left out of the conversation, leaned back against the wall next to the piano, giving Derek a clearer view of Edwin, who was starting to enjoy the attention.

_Wonder what took him so long_, Lizzie thought.

"Okay," Edwin said. "How bout some Chopsticks?"

Kendra laughed, everyone else rolled their eyes. Then he started to play something that Lizzie had heard before but couldn't place. It made Casey and Marti drift downstairs and George start to bop his head in the kitchen as he started dinner.

_Must be from the Eighties_, Lizzie guessed. It was pretty good, but far from perfect. He started off slowly, but randomly sped up in places. Then he'd catch himself and slow down again. And there were a couple of mistakes and Edwin had a bad habit of calling attention to them by stopping or wincing, sometimes shaking his head. This time he wasn't so bad, just biting his lip a couple of times when he hit a wrong note.

Marti danced in her own strange way. Casey liked to say that the little girl had rhythm but didn't always pay attention to it. Derek went back and forth between watching Marti hopping around, Edwin messing up, and Casey watching Marti. Kendra didn't seem to notice.

"Maybe you should've been standing over here instead of me, Derry," Kendra said after Edwin was done and she'd done the proper amount of squeeing over him. "Like, the whole wall vibrated."

Derek shrugged. "C'mere," he said. He took her one of her hands and put it on the table behind the couch and put the other on the arm of the couch itself. "Do something, Ed."

Edwin hit a chord.

"Oh my gosh," Kendra said. Derek winked.

"He's awesome," Kendra said. "You know?"

"Yes I am," Edwin said, turning around on the bench.

Derek made an "are you crazy" face, and Kendra whacked his arm, but then Edwin turned around again and Derek nodded.

He caught Lizzie watching and signed "Don't tell." he mouthed it so that Kendra understood, too.

George came out at one point with his apron on, a towel draped over his arm, to formally ask Kendra if she would be staying for dinner. This was something George couldn't help doing whenever anyone had friends over. Not so much for Sam or Ralph because it was assumed that they'd stay for food, but for anyone else, George had to be extra cute. And it embarrassed Derek, so that had to be a bonus.

Kendra ate it up. "Why I would love to stay, George," she said.

He bowed and left the room backwards, making sure that he bumped into stuff on the way out.

"It's getting a little crowded in here," Derek said. It was supposed to be a hint, but nobody moved. "How about _we_ go upstairs for a little while?"

"Okay," Kendra said.

"Leave the door open," George called out, but then realized that Derek wasn't facing him.

"I got it," Kendra said. "Door open."

"I _like_ her," George said once they were gone.

Part Four: Derek.

No matter what his Dad said, Derek would always try to close his door. One day it had to work, Derek was convinced. This time, his evil plan was foiled by random family members walking by at odd points and barging in. It only took a couple tries for Kendra to give up.

"Your family knows you too well," she said.

"Next time, we try your house," Derek said.

"I like yours better," Kendra said.

"Did you just say you like it here?" Derek asked. He tried to feel her forehead, but she slapped it away.

"Admit that you like them too," Kendra said. "You're not fooling anybody."

"I like them sometimes," Derek admitted.

"Now was that so hard?"

"Yes." He pouted.

"Aww," Kendra said. It was good enough to get him a kiss.

"So, what do you wanna do now?" she asked.

"I had a pretty good idea but..." he gestured to the open door.

She smirked. "Dream on."

"It was worth a shot," Derek said. Kendra laughed. He liked to watch her laugh. Her nose crinkled up, and once in a while her head flew back like a Pez dispenser. Sometimes she put her hand over her chest, like people did in old movies. Like "Oh me, oh my!" He was willing to bet money that she had a pillbox hat and white gloves in her house someplace. And pearls.

"What if the wind blew the door shut?" Derek said, opening his window as wide as it would go. That got her laughing harder.

"No, it's freezing," Kendra said. She picked up one edge of his comforter and wrapped herself up.

"Fine," he said, shutting it again. When he turned back, he found her cocooned. "Are you still in there?" he joked, trying to unwrap her. It turned into a wrestling match that only stopped when his lights flicked off and then on again. He looked up to see Casey, leaning against his door jamb watching, arms crossed, and smirking like she knew she'd been just in time.

Kendra turned red and climbed out of his comforter to show that she had all her clothes on. They said a couple of things back and forth, he had no clue what.

"Do you have anything better to do?" he asked Casey. "Studying, maybe?"

"Nope," she said.

"But don't we have a big test?" Derek asked. "Like, next month or so? Or a paper?"

"Thought I'd take a break," Casey said. "Live a little."

He tried glaring, but she didn't seem intimidated. Her smile widened because she had him and she knew it.

"Scuse us for a second, Kendra," he said, hopping off the bed and leading Casey into the hallway.

"Are you having fun?" he signed.

"Yes," she signed.

"I won't forget this," he signed. She raised her eyebrows.

"If you find another guy stupid enough to date you," Derek signed. "This will bite you in the ass."

"I'm not stupid enough to try to close my door," Casey signed.

"Watch your back," Derek signed.

"Awww," Casey said, reaching out to pinch his cheek. "Kendra, come see Derek try to be all --"

He turned to see Kendra come to the door. "Don't be mean to my Der-bear."

_Grrr_, he thought, but then Kendra ran her cool hand up under his shirt and tickled him, effectively making him forget that he was getting pissed off in the first place.

It was times like these that made Derek wonder if he could be an emancipated minor. It might be worth the lack of a college fund and the extra hardship that went along with it if he could just have some time alone with his freakin' girlfriend.

_Whoa_, he thought. _Girlfriend?_

Kendra pulled him inside and started nibbling his earlobe.

_Yeah, okay, _Derek thought, _maybe. Girlfriend. We can go with that._

She pulled away. "So what do you wanna do now?"

"I'd say go ahead and keep doing what you were doing," Derek said.

"Or we could talk," Kendra said, sitting down on his bed.

"Or not," Derek said, sitting next to her. He moved her hair off her neck and started kissing it.

After a minute or so of this, Kendra started to giggle and fight him off again.

"What?"

"Apparently dinner's ready," she said. "Your Dad just made the announcement. Someone's gonna come get us any second."

Derek pouted. Even the food was against him.

"Come on," Kendra said. "Aren't you hungry? I'm hungry. I wanna try your Dad's cooking."

"Famous last words," Derek said. When she scoffed, he said. "I mean it. You might wanna make out a will. Call your parents."

Nora waved from the doorway.

"We're coming," Derek said.

"Good," Nora said. "How you doing, Kendra?"

Nora and Kendra chirped their way downstairs. Derek could only hope that they weren't dishing on him, but their backs were to him, so there was no way to find out.

At dinner, Kendra was her usual nosy, bubbly self, asking Lizzie about her basketball practice and whether there were any cute boys on the team.

"It's an all-girl team," Lizzie said, stone-faced. Sometimes Lizzie really did rock.

"Oh," Kendra said. "Well, that can still be fun. Is that the only team you're on?"

That killed ten or fifteen minutes as Lizzie tried to explain sports to her.

_Good luck with that,_ he thought.

Derek was able to stuff his face without worrying about keeping up with the conversation for a while. When he looked up again, Kendra had moved on to Casey.

He missed the first part, but caught "--to the dance with Sam or what?" she asked.

"Or what." Casey said. So that was a no.

"Why not?" Kendra asked. "It looks like it's only a matter of time before you guys get back together. Everybody says so."

"_Who_ says so?" Derek asked. Casey turned toward him like she'd forgotten he was there.

"Wow, Derek. For once, we're on the same page. _Who_ says so?" Casey asked.

"I dunno," Kendra said. "It's just the buzz around school. That you guys are one of those couples."

"What does that even mean?" Casey said.

"I don't know how it started," Kendra said. "But I just figured it meant that people are pulling for you two. I mean, you broke up, but you spend all kinds of time together."

_They really do_, Derek thought. There was something about that he really didn't like.


	25. Chapter 25

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-five.

Part One: Emily.

It snowed a little on Monday afternoon, stopping shortly before the last bell. It was just enough to coat the cars and buses and make the graying slush on the unsalted bits of sidewalk look clean again. It served to clear the air so that Emily couldn't smell the exhaust from the cheese buses and by the time they got outside, it was cold and dry.

But leave it to Sheldon to find the one ice patch on the ground and slip on it. As he went down, so did Emily and he let out an "oof" as she sprawled on top of him. Her palms stung as they hit the little crust of snow and concrete. The mortification didn't kick in until she'd satisfied herself that Sheldon was okay.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I've been worse," Sheldon said.

"Worse than me elbowing you in the stomach?" Emily said, looking around to see how many people had noticed them. Luckily, they were far enough away from the school for few people to notice and no one to really care.

"Some people would call a cute girl landing on me the highlight of my day," Sheldon said.

She cracked a smile and shoved him.

"Ow," he said, clutching his abdomen.

"Oh my God!"

"No, I'm kidding," he said, holding out his hands first to stop her from freaking out, then to ward off a few hits. They got most of the way down the block before she stopped trying to smack him and were right near Smelly Nellie's before Emily could work the conversation back to where it had been before he fell down.

"So about your _birth_day," Emily said.

"What about it?"

"What do you wanna do?" she asked. "Gonna have a party? What?"

"I have, like, three friends," Sheldon said. "And my parents never leave town, so the party thing doesn't really work as an idea."

"Don't you wanna do something special?" Emily asked.

"I dunno. Maybe if I'm lucky, I get to pick the pizza toppings," Sheldon said. "Can't really do much on a Tuesday night, you know?"

"What about the weekend after?" Emily asked. Did she have to hit him over the head or what?

"What? Wanna do something?"

_Ding, ding, ding_, Emily thought. "That was what I was getting at, yeah. What kind of girl would I be if I didn't make a little fuss over my boyfriend on his birthday, as old as he makes me feel?"

"You're two months older than I am," Sheldon said. "Hardly qualifies you for cougar status."

"Says you," Emily said. "Now why don't you buy an old lady a hot chocolate?"

"As long as you promise not to stuff all the sugar packets into your purse again," Sheldon said.

"I make no promises," Emily said.

He held the door open. "After you, Mrs. Robinson."

Smelly Nellie's felt so wonderful and warm after they'd been out in the cold. Once they settled into a booth, Sheldon grabbed both of Emily's hands and rubbed them. It was such a daddy move that once again she had to giggle over the fact that he was only about to turn fifteen.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, looking him in the eye. Before she got a chance to stand up and lean over the booth to kiss him, Casey showed up.

"Oh my gosh, Em, I'm so glad I caught you!" Casey said, sliding into the booth next to Sheldon, completely oblivious to what had been going on before she got there. As usual.

"Hi Casey," Sheldon said.

"Hey," Casey said. "So Emily, I was wondering if I could get some advice. I've been wanting to ask you all day, but there were too many people around."

"Um," Emily said, glancing at Sheldon. On one hand, it sounded like Casey wanted to tell her something juicy, on the other hand, she had a perfectly good Schlepper going to waste across from her.

"Or I can just get lost," Casey said, realizing that she was in the way.

"What is it?" Sheldon asked even though his face screamed "Get lost."

Casey didn't need to be asked twice. "I'll be quick. Derek's birthday's a week from Friday and I'm drawing major blanks here. I was gonna throw him a party, but Sam said that was a bad idea."

"How come?" Sheldon asked.

"I don't know," Casey said. "Sam _said_ Derek doesn't really like parties, but look how many he goes to. I don't get it."

"He does tend to hide in kitchens," Sheldon said.

"Or closets," Emily joked.

"Ew," Casey said. "So okay, yeah, no party."

"Gift card?" Sheldon said.

"I have _never_ given anyone a gift card in my life," Casey said, pointing a finger at Sheldon. He would have backed up if there was anywhere to go. "I don't plan on starting now. Those are _way_ too impersonal. But the problem is that I don't know enough about him to get him something he really wants and I figured that the two of you have known him since you were little, so..."

"We're not exactly what you'd call close," Sheldon said.

"I thought he went to your bar mitzvah," Casey said.

"He did. To hit on Hannah Hirsch," Sheldon said. "And Melanie Weiss. And my sister..."

"Well, that still makes you closer than I am," Casey said.

"If you say so," Sheldon said.

"How 'bout you, Em," Casey said. "You know Derek pretty well."

Sheldon rolled his eyes. Before they'd officially started going out, Emily had made the supreme mistake of telling him about her crush on Derek and he'd been smart enough to intuit how far the crush went, what with the sign language classes and all. So it wasn't hard to figure out that the last thing Sheldon wanted to be talking about was _Derek_.

"You know Sheldon's birthday's next week, too," Emily said, trying to change the subject.

"Really?" Casey asked. "Sixteen?"

"_Fif_teen," Sheldon said.

"Are you, like, the youngest in the grade?" Casey asked.

"Probably," Sheldon said. This was _so_ not the way to his heart, Emily knew.

"When is it?" Casey asked, whipping out her organizer.

"Tuesday," Sheldon said. He looked surprised that she seemed interested. "The thirteenth."

"Derek's is Friday the sixteenth," Casey said, marking the date. "He's gonna be sixteen. Hey. Sixteen on the sixteenth!"

Sheldon looked at Emily in disbelief.

"But you know," Casey continued. "You and Derek are total Sagittarians."

"I know, right?" Emily asked, looking over at Sheldon. The poor kid's eyebrows were up as far as they could go.

"Not that I believe in that zodiac stuff," Casey said.

"Oh, of course not," Sheldon said. Emily was really going to have to make up for this weirdness later.

"So what are you gonna do for your birthday?" Casey said. "I wonder if it totally sucks that it's so close to Christmas, and Hanukkah. When _is _Hanukkah this year? Has your birthday ever fallen smack in the middle of it so that people give you combo gifts?"

"Um," Sheldon said, looking a little confused. "Yeah. Happens once in a while. Not this year, but I'm a big fan of _gelt_ so it usually doesn't matter."

"_Gelt_?" Casey asked.

"Those little chocolate coins in the gold foil," Emily said.

Both of them looked at her.

"What?" she asked. "_I_ know stuff. For a _shiksa_."

"_Shiksa_ goddess," Sheldon teased.

"Aww," Casey said, looking at Sheldon like she only just noticed that he was cute. "Where can I get one of these?"

"_You _want a shiksa goddess?" Sheldon asked. Emily couldn't tell whether or not he was playing dumb. Sometimes he just plain spaced out.

"No! Or...the boy version at least," Casey said.

"Okay," Sheldon said. "I wondered for a second there. So what were we talking about?"

"Derek," Casey said. "And his birthday. You guys have no idea?"

"Nope," Sheldon said.

"Not really," Emily said. "I'll think about it, though."

"Thanks," Casey said. "You're a lifesaver." She stuffed her organizer back into her bag and a look of hope started to show on Sheldon's face.

"I try," Emily said.

"What were you guys up to before I showed up?" Casey asked, making herself comfortable.

"Casey!" Sheldon said.

"Kidding," she said, zipping her coat back up. "I'm going! You two just...carry on."

Emily groaned.

"Just keep doing what you were doing," Casey said, an evil grin on her face.

"I don't think I _remember_ what we were doing," Sheldon said watching Casey leave.

"I'm sure I can jog your memory," Emily said. She tried to play footsie but her aim was a little off and she ended up kicking him with her boot.

"Sorry!"

"No worries," he said, reaching over to rub his leg.

Part Two: Casey.

Kendra stayed for dinner again. Casey was starting to wonder if her parents would tell her if they'd adopted another kid.

_Seriously, Kendra, do you have a home?_ Casey wondered. '_Cause you should really go there._ Then she berated herself for being mean. It probably wasn't Kendra's fault that she rubbed Casey the wrong way. It wasn't really anything she'd done, Casey didn't think. In fact, Kendra had finally decided to stop teasing Casey about her supposed reunion with Sam. The only problem was that she was doing it in an "I'm not teasing you," way. Sort of like the "I'm not touching you," game, but worse. She looked pointedly at Casey whenever Sam was mentioned, with a "you can't fool _me_" look on her face.

After dinner, Casey tried to finish _How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents_ while Derek and Kendra made out right next door. She tried closing her door, but mere walls were no match for Kendra Mason's giggle. Casey actually worried that the girl would never leave when George reminded both of the lovebirds that it was a school night. Because George was awesome.

Casey was ten pages from the end of the book when she was distracted yet again.

"So have the two of you idiots lost your minds?" Derek asked. He asked it out of nowhere. She knew that he'd been downstairs getting almost beaten by Lizzie at some kind of violent video game—they all ran together in Casey's mind. So she thought he'd be down there until George wrestled the controller out of his cold, dead hand. He wasn't supposed to be up here this early, much less leaning against the jamb in her doorway, bugging her.

Casey wanted to say something about putting statements into context being a _good_ thing, but it came out as "Huh?"

"You and Sam," Derek said, rolling his eyes.

"What about me and Sam?" Casey asked. "Don't tell me you picked _this_ moment to listen to your girlfriend."

"No changing the subject," Derek said. "Ain't none of this about me. I mean, I don't care what you do, but it's my job as a best friend to keep Sam out of trouble. And you are trouble." He signed the word "trouble" and pointed at her.

"_I'm_ trouble?" Casey asked. "_You're_ calling_ me_ trouble?"

"Turned him into a nail-biting super-keener like yourself," Derek said. "That is, when he didn't think you were cheating on him."

"Whoa!" That was a low blow.

"I'm not saying he was right about that," Derek interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her from yelling. "But you made him crazy, and we do not need that."

It was hard to figure out what was worse, Derek sticking his nose where it really did not belong, or the idea that she would do anything to hurt Sam. That she still wasn't good enough for his friend, even though they were not back together and had no plans to get back together, was insulting on a few levels.

"You just need to leave," Casey said, pushing him from her doorway and shutting the door on him. His door slammed in response.

_Crap_, she thought. _I didn't tell him no_. Which meant that she needed to warn Sam before Derek had a chance to go after him.

"Hellooo," Sam said when he picked up.

"Hey," Casey said. "Sam, listen. You're about to get a text or something from Derek."

"An IM," Sam said. "In progress. And it's all caps, too."

"Crap," Casey said. "I'd hoped to warn you."

"Meh," Sam said. "A couple of exclamation points never killed anyone."

"What are you telling him?" Casey asked.

"I'm waiting for him to stop sending me paragraphs," Sam said. "What should I tell him? How bout 'Casey and I are getting married in Vegas and there's nothing you can do to stop us?' or 'She's pregnant," or should I just go with the truth and tell him I'm freaking tutoring you and to take a pill?"

"Either of the first two would kill him," Casey said.

"What about both of them?" Sam asked.

"No!" Casey yelped. She heard laughing and clicking of keys and Sam muttering "take. a. pill." to himself as he typed.

"Now he thinks 'tutoring you' is a euphemism for something else," Sam said.

"Ew!" Casey said. Sam laughed. Then Casey felt her stomach drop as something occurred to her.

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

"You don't want to get back together do you?"

"Um, no, Case. As much as I do like you, no."

"Okay," Casey said. "I just wondered if you'd be insulted by that 'ew.' I didn't mean it like that you know."

"I know."

"Would you have said anything if you were insulted, because people tell me I can be kind of oblivious sometimes—"

She was interrupted by the sound of stifled laughter.

"Hey!" she said, causing him to lose control and start laughing harder. It went on for almost a minute.

"Okay, I get the point," Casey said.

"Oh, wait," Sam said. "He finally got around to asking what _I _could possibly be tutoring _you_ in. Talk about oblivious."

"You're not gonna tell him!"

"Um, I just did," Sam said. "Was it a secret?"

"Well," Casey said. "Not so much a secret. More like..."

"What?" Sam said. She could hear the grin in his voice. "Like a surprise?"

"Sam."

"That's just—" he trailed off into more laughter. "You two are idiots. And my sides are starting to hurt."

"Sam!"

"If I get a hernia and miss the rest of hockey season it'll be you guys' fault, is all I'm saying," Sam said.

"What's he saying now?" Casey asked, changing the subject.

"I think I might have just rendered him speechless," Sam said. "Oh wait...he says 'are you serious?' I'm telling him to take his head out of his ass."

"Good luck with that," Casey said. She knelt down and reached into the spot between her bed and her nightstand and slid open the vent. It wasn't the most brilliant idea to try to eavesdrop on a Deaf person, perhaps; she knew that Derek did _not_ often waste time talking if he didn't have to. But for some reason, she had to know what he was doing in there. Was he just typing or was he pacing in between? Growling? What? It was just too bad that she couldn't really _see_ into his room from there. Then again, maybe that was a good thing because if she couldn't see into his room, he couldn't see into hers either. She wasn't planning on having to change all of her hiding places for another month or so.

"Now he's all embarrassed, I think," Sam said.

"How can you tell?"

"Because you know how the IM window shows that someone's typing?" Sam asked. "He keeps typing and not posting. He can't think of anything to say. Which means...yep!"

"What?"

"Just straight up apologized," Sam said.

"Are you sure you're really talking to Derek?"

"Come on," Sam said. "You know him better than that. When it's really important, he apologizes. Not that he usually realizes when he's wrong, but on those rare times when he does, he cops to it."

She had to admit that it was true.

"Anyway," Sam said. "His birthday's coming in a couple weeks, and he wants to keep everyone who might have cash to spend on him happy. So you're probably next."

"I don't have any money," Casey lied.

"He doesn't need to know that," Sam said.

"He probably already checked my wallet," Casey said. "That's what he does to Edwin."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Sam said. "So what are you gonna do: wait for him to come to you with the apology or go bug him?"

"Who says I'm going to do anything?" Casey asked.

"Casey," Sam said.

"Don't do that," Casey said. "Do not act like you have me all figured out, because you don't."

"Mmhmm," Sam said.

"And don't 'mmhmm' me either," Casey said. "That's just as bad."

"If you say so," Sam said. She could hear him smirking.

Before she could even think of a response, Derek barged into her room, knocking on her door from the inside.

"Later," she said, hanging up the phone quickly.

"Here to insult me some more?" Casey said, pretending to be way more hurt than she was. From the look on his face, he almost believed her. For a second.

"Maybe tomorrow," he said.

"Then what do you want?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes, put his hands in his pockets, then took them out again. He played with the hem on his t-shirt.

"So I was talking to Sam just now," he began, not making eye contact. Probably, Casey thought, so that she had no way to interrupt him. "I'm guessing you were too, right?" He looked up.

"No," Casey lied, indignantly.

"I'll take that as a yes," Derek said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. She hated when people insinuated that she was so easy to read.

"And he said that you guys weren't together," Derek said.

"Oh, so you believe_ him, _but not me?"

"I asked you," Derek said. "You didn't say no. You just threw me out of the room."

_Dammit_, she thought. _He wasn't supposed to remember that_. "I was offended," she said.

"Yeah," Derek said. "So, um."

"What?"

"I guess I," he began. "Maybe..."

He never beat around the bush this much. _Never_. Casey wondered if she should just let him off the hook. His hands went back into his pockets.

Casey guessed it was up to her. "You don't have to say it," she signed. He looked even guiltier when she signed. She hadn't been trying to guilt him further. And he really needed to take his hands out of his pockets because that made _her _feel guilty, and she hadn't even _done_ anything.

"Yeah, I do," he said. "I'm s-sorry that I said you were trouble."

"Okay," Casey said. _Stop looking at me like that_, she thought. There had to be a way to wipe that embarrassed look off his face. It took a second for inspiration to hit.

"Hug?" she asked, holding her arms out and stepping toward him. He stepped back in horror.

"Didn't think so," Casey said, smiling a little. That was the Derek she knew. "So why are you still in my room?"

"No idea," he signed. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, though.

"By the way," Casey said, sitting down again. "Did Sam act like he knew exactly what you were going to do?"

"Maybe," Derek said. "You too?"

"Yes," Casey said. "How much do you hate that?"

Derek looked at her conspiratorially. For a second, it looked like he was going to beckon her closer and huddle or something. She didn't know how to feel about that. "Who can we get to beat him up?" Derek signed.

"I'll think about it," Casey signed. "And get back to you."

"Lizzie," Derek signed. He used her name sign, which translated to something like"Sporty L." It used to be "Sporty Spice" but Lizzie hinted to Derek that she might know how to kill a man with her bare hands. Casey, as far as she knew, _still_ didn't have a name sign.

"No," Casey signed. "She'd beat you up first."

"True," Derek signed. "So you're getting good at this."

Casey shook her head and cursed the rush of blood to her face.

"Now I can't talk about you in front of your face," Derek signed. She threw a pillow at him, then a particularly evil thought entered her mind and she smiled.

"What?" Derek asked.

"I can still talk about _you_ in front of your face," Casey said.

"You'll never be as good as Edwin is at it," Derek said, grinning back at her.

"He'll teach me. I'll pay him," she signed. She couldn't remember the sign for "if" but she thought she did okay.

"You can't afford it," he signed.

"You _did_ go through my wallet!" she said. Her hand groped the bed behind her for something else to chuck at him, but found nothing. He took it as his cue to duck out of her room. Luckily for him he was faster than she was; his door slammed shut before she even got to her doorway.

She wondered if he knew that she never kept more than twenty dollars in her wallet at one time and that her real cash was hidden in a couple of CD cases.

_Wouldn't put it past him_, she thought. That worried her, but she made herself go through all the usual stuff she did to get ready for bed _before_ she checked. Like somehow that made her a little less compulsive. And anyway, he was more of a mooch than a thief. So, as expected, it was all there. She moved a little of it elsewhere, just in case.

Part Three: Derek.

Casey had a name sign. Derek just didn't use it around her, so she didn't know about it. It was based on the sign for "princess;" he just modified the "p" handshape into a "c" for Casey. He mostly used it when he was mad at her, so even Sam knew not to let the cat out of the bag. Derek knew that he had to come up with a name sign that wouldn't get him clobbered, but it was a lot harder than it seemed.

He knew that she wanted one. It had gotten to the point where he barely used any name signs around her. She felt left out and it was obvious. The longer he waited the worse it got.

But he hated the ceremony that seemed to come with bestowing the name sign. You couldn't make up your own, first of all; it had to be given to you specifically by a member of the Deaf community. As far as Casey was concerned, he _was_ the Deaf community, so it fell to him.

Edwin would have been better at it. He'd pay the kid to come up with something if he had any money. And if he could find a way to ask him without it seeming like he cared or anything.

Tuesday, over lunch, Sam played dumb when Derek asked for his help.

"Name sign? I thought she had one," Sam signed.

Derek narrowed his eyes. "Not helping," he signed.

"No, I'm not," Sam signed. "And I'm not going to. This is your thing."

"But you'd do a better job," Derek signed. "You know her better. You like her more. And you're the smart one."

"And you're the one with the talent for bullshit," Sam signed.

"That does me no good now," Derek signed.

"Yeah," Sam signed. "You need to be honest. How will you survive?"

"I have no idea," Derek signed, moving his tray aside and bonking his head on the table. If he gave himself a concussion, none of this would matter.


	26. Chapter 26

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: Y'all know better than this. But just in case. I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Part One: Derek.

Derek barged in to Casey's room, the way he always did, ignoring her protests that she was trying to have a serious conversation with her friend.

Emily waved from her spot on Casey's bed.

"Good thing I came in when I did, then, huh?" Derek said, winking at Emily and plopping down next to her.

"Run!" he signed to Emily.

She gave him a shove. "—personal space. Look into it."

"Yeah, whatever. What's that on your neck?" Derek asked, changing the subject. He moved her hair off her neck and pushed the collar of her t-shirt down. She slapped his hand away.

Casey flapped a hand in Derek's periphery, the classic sign for "Hey!"

"That is what we were talking about," Casey said, mock serious, but ready to break. "My best friend is dating a vampire." She signed "vampire." Two fingers on the side of her neck.

"Count Schlepula?" Derek asked. He mentally thanked God he was facing Casey and not Emily when he said that. The look on her face as she was shocked into laughter was not to be missed.

And he felt Emily shaking with laughter next to him before she hit him, so she was covered.

"What?" Derek said, innocently. "Would Hannibal Schlepper be a better nickname?"

Again, he couldn't resist peeking at Casey to see her reaction. As much as he was starting to enjoy messing with Emily, it was Casey he wanted to crack up. He got to see her bury her reddening face in her hands before Emily nailed him with Casey's pillow, knocking him off the bed and onto the floor. Strong girl, Emily. He lay there, pretending to be dead for a minute or so and they ignored him until Casey stepped over him on her way out of the room.

"Mom wants me," she explained when he looked up. She turned to Emily and said something, nodding toward Derek. It was probably some version of "keep him outta my stuff." He made no move to leave her floor until she was gone. Then, he took her seat at the desk. Emily got up and stood by him so she could talk to him.

"I'm supposed to keep you out of trouble," Emily said.

"And a great job you're doing," Derek said. He clicked the mouse, sending the animated kitten on her screensaver to bed for a while. She had music playing, and, without turning it off, he explored what she had.

Derek started to mess with the playlists on Casey's laptop. It was just something he did. It really didn't matter that he couldn't hear any of this music for himself, it still managed to be fun. And it worked out for him. He knew for a fact that Sam still had most of the playlists that Derek's made for him. Some of that was because Sam was too indecisive/lazy to make his own playlists and, if left to his own devices would be far too dependent on the shuffle button. Still, Derek liked to think that part of it was because Derek accidentally stumbled on some good collections of stuff, just on the basis of their titles. Maybe he was a playlist savant. Did they have those? He knew that Deaf deejays existed even outside the world of that _It's All Gone Pete Tong_ movie. So a playlist savant wasn't outside the realm of possibility, he thought.

"You're not going to mess with her iTunes, are you?" Emily asked.

"Me?" Derek asked. He put a finger to his lips because who knew when Casey was coming back.

"Stop it," she signed.

"Look at all this!" Derek signed, indicating the number of mixes Casey had on her computer. "How long will it take before she notices one more?"

"What are you gonna do?" Emily signed.

Derek shrugged. As soon as Emily made sure that he wasn't doing anything evil, she went along.

"She'll see it tomorrow," Emily signed.

"No," Derek signed. "A week."

Inspiration hit and he started putting songs together. Then he stopped.

"This isn't all the same song, is it?" Derek asked. There were five songs named "Hallelujah."

"I know that these three are," Emily said, pointing the cursor over the ones she meant. Then she clicked on another and listened for thirty seconds or so.

He raised his eyebrows and she nodded. She clicked on the last one and listened, giving it about a minute and a half and leaving him in suspense. He cleared his throat when he couldn't take it anymore.

"Same song," she confirmed. She gave her head a little shake, like he'd woken her up.

"_Why_?" he asked.

"It's Hallelujah," Emily said, shrugging. She grabbed one of Casey's 3 x 5 cards and wrote down _Leonard Cohen_ and _k.d. lang_. Then she wrote _Hallelujah_. She folded it in half and stuffed it into her jeans pocket.

He shook his head in the sudden realization that he would never understand women. He was about to ask her to explain exactly what could possibly be so special about a song that anyone would need more than one version, but Emily looked up, signaling the return of Casey.

"You're in my chair," Casey said.

"Yep," Derek said.

"Why?" Casey asked.

"Emily hogged the bed," Derek said.

"Why are you in my room?" Casey asked.

"That's where the chair is," Derek said, grinning. She opened her mouth and closed it, trying to find logic in what he'd just said. Emily, apparently amused by this, looked back and forth between them.

"Can't you go bother someone else for a while?" Casey asked. "I'm sure Edwin feels neglected."

"He can wait his turn like everyone else," Derek said. One thing he really loved was this little twitch that her lips did when she was trying not to smile. Some day soon she'd have to admit that he was funny and that, contrary to his initial assessment of her, she did have a sense of humor.

"Why don't you just text Sam?"

"Sam," Derek said. "Sam is 'studying.'" He used air quotes.

Casey thought about that for a second and nodded her approval. Which probably meant that she knew who Sam was not really studying with. Derek had had to practically beat the information out of him, nagging until Sam admitted that he had a French assignment with Lana Logan. Which, again, he wasn't really going to be doing, if he had any common sense.

_Should've known,_ Derek thought. _Stuff happens while doing French assignments_. He thanked God that he took Spanish and that so far, Senora Sanchez was not a fan of the group projects. That was, come to think of it, the only reason to like his Spanish class, especially the way everyone looked at him. Like they just couldn't _believe_ that _he_ could handle a foreign language class.

Senora took a special interest in him. As it turned out, she knew how to use Cued Speech, so once in a while, she did so, calling even more attention to him and to Joey, the Cued Speech Transliterator who helped him in the class. She also used it whenever she spoke to him directly because she had a strong accent and he couldn't read her lips.

Casey waved to get his attention.

"Huh?"

"I said 'What about Kendra?'" Casey asked.

Derek shrugged, a little guiltily.

"What did you do?" Casey asked.

"I didn't do anything," Derek said. Neither Casey nor Emily seemed convinced.

"What did you do?" Casey repeated.

"Nothing," he said. Why did they think everything was _his_ fault? Kendra was just sulking because she still couldn't get him to take her to that dance. Of course he couldn't tell them that because they'd tell him that it was his boyfriendly duty to give her everything she wanted.

"Well," Casey said, pushing him toward the door. "You should go—."

"Go _what_?" he asked.

"Beg for forgiveness," Casey said. She gave him a final little push and shut the door.

_Some people have no manners,_ he thought.

He'd gone in there to bug her because he didn't have anything to do and Kendra was off somewhere not talking to him, so once again, he had nothing to do. He decided to take Casey's advice and bother Edwin for a little while.

He found Ed in Marti's room, trying to get her to go to sleep. He was perched on her bed with a book open in his lap, but he wasn't reading from it. Edwin's back was to him, but it was pretty clear from Marti's face that he was doing some voices and keeping her pretty entertained. Judging from Marti, who didn't look the least bit tired, Edwin would be at it for another hour at least. Neither of them even noticed him watching.

He went downstairs to find Lizzie curled in a chair with a book even though Dad and Nora had a movie going. She looked up as he passed her, and as he shook his head to show his disapproval, she stuck her tongue out. All the work he did to set a bad example and this was the thanks he got? It hurt.

"Your priorities are all wrong," he signed.

"What?" Lizzie signed, putting the open book face down on her leg. "What's all wrong?"

"You mean there's a word that you don't know?" he signed, making a shocked face.

"Priorities," he said out loud. "You are sitting here reading a _book_."

"Do I disgust you?" Lizzie signed.

"Very much," Derek signed.

Nora had turned at the sound of his voice and was watching them. After Lizzie had gone back to her book, Nora waved Derek over. His Dad, of course, was asleep on top of Nora. That told Derek all he needed to know about the movie, but he climbed into his chair and hit the lever for the footrest to come up anyway.

On the screen, Hugh Grant was dancing around a room and down some stairs, singing along to something, stopping only when a woman caught him. The captions weren't even hinting at what the song was, though it was clearly part of the joke.

But Derek Venturi knew a chick flick when he saw one and he almost got up to go upstairs again when Nora turned to him again. She signed so as not to wake up his Dad. As if nuclear war would wake him up.

"What's up?"

"Not much," Derek signed. "Bored."

"Did you do your homework?" she signed.

"Of course not! " he signed, even though he had done it. "Bite your tongue." She smirked. He was tempted to ask her if it was normal for people to buy up every version of a song they liked or whether it was just a Casey thing. He just couldn't think of a way to ask without it being weird.

He wondered if that song was Casey's favorite. Then it occurred to him that he didn't know anything about what _Kendra_ liked to listen to either. And she was the one he was _supposed_ to know stuff about. He'd have to go about investigating that once he was back on her good side.

And he had a feeling that getting back on her good side was going to hurt. Around the time Keira Knightley opened her door to the guy with the cue cards, he sighed and took his cell phone out of his pocket. He texted "Forgive me?" and added a frowny face for good measure. _That should do it_, he thought.

"Are you ready to compromise?" Kendra texted back, about a minute later. She spelled "ready" and "compromise" without any vowels. "Compromise," in Kendra-ese meant " to cave; to submit. To be the pathetic whipped puppy that she knows you can be."

He heaved another sigh and Nora tore herself away from Colin Firth to laugh at him as he text-groveled.

"I'll take you but will not dance," he texted.

"Squee," she sent back.

_Squee?_ He thought. _Is that a word?_

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Derry."

"Okay."

He felt dirty.

Part Two: Casey.

After she checked to see that nothing was amiss with her iTunes, (while Emily laughed at her,) she decided to get back to the task at hand.

"You guys are getting serious, huh?"Casey said.

Emily looked everywhere but at her. "Maybe," she said. "You gonna act like you disapprove? Because I thought he was starting to grow on you."

"Oh yeah," Casey said. "Totally. He's actually kinda sweet. And it doesn't hurt that Shawn tells me that he thinks Sheldon hung the moon. So maybe I just want details."

"What's to tell?" Emily asked. "We went to see _Rent_."

"Oh yeah? How was it?"

"I have no idea," Emily said. "And the thing is that we both wanted to see it, but somehow..."

"Yeah," Casey said. "Sheldon got the munchies."

Emily threw one of her little decorative pillows at her and tugged the collar of her t-shirt up. Then, she put her sweater back on over it.

"Lucky for me I look good in turtlenecks," Emily said.

"Yeah," Casey said. "And if you run out, you can borrow mine. God knows I don't need 'em."

"I don't know about that," Emily said. "What did you just say about hanging out with Shawn?"

"Shawn?" Casey asked. "We work on yearbook together."

"How much work could you possibly have to do on the yearbook _now_?" Emily said. "You just like hanging out with Shawn."

"Anything wrong with that?" Casey asked. "He's funny."

"And cute," Emily said.

"Yeah," Casey said. "So?"

"What do you mean, 'so?'?" Emily asked. "Are you telling me you're not interested?"

"I'm telling you it's not an option," Casey said. "I'm some kid in his brother's class. He's like two years older than me. And popular."

"And?"

"_I'm_ Klutzilla the Superkeener," Casey said.

Edwin picked that moment to walk by. He paused for a second, eyes widening, and risked a peek into Casey's room. It looked like every molecule in his body wanted to laugh. _Not just laugh_, Casey thought. _Guffaw._

"Edwin!" Casey yelled.

"I didn't say anything!" he said, starting to laugh.

"And you won't," Casey said, putting her arm around him and dragging him inside. "Will you Edwin?"

Edwin smiled at her. "Why would I do that? Hi Emily! How ya doin?" He flashed his eyes at her. _Twelve years old and he already knows how to turn on the high beams_, Casey thought. _Weird group Mom married into._

Casey glared. Edwin took a step backward.

_Oooh,_ Casey thought. _That actually worked?_

"_Will_ you, Edwin?" Casey repeated.

"No," he said, grudgingly.

"You sound horrible, by the way," Casey said. He was a little bit hoarse. She felt his forehead. "If you're getting sick, then you need to get lost, because I don't need to catch any of what you have, _comprendez-vous_?"

"I'm not getting sick," Edwin said, pulling away. "It just takes forever to put Marti to bed. And I need to retire my Cookie Monster voice because it's killing me."

"Aww," Emily said. "Poor Edwin."

Edwin stuck out his lower lip and nodded. He sat down when Emily patted the spot next to her. Casey groaned. Emily was setting a bad precedent. Pretty soon, every non-related-to-him woman who entered this house was going to get hit on.

"I might have some cough drops in here," Emily said, her arm disappearing most of the way up to the shoulder as she searched through her giant purse. She pulled out her keys (five keys, six keychains), a little dental floss dispenser, and a flash drive before she came up with a handful of cough drops for Edwin to pick among. "Take a couple."

"What else do you have in there?" Edwin asked.

"Not too much," Emily said, giving the bag a shake. Stuff rattled inside. "Sofa-bed. Extra blanket. Tennis racket. Why?"

"No sink?" Edwin asked.

"Nah," Emily said. "It kept leaking."

"Hate it when that happens," Edwin said.

"Aren't you tired, Edwin?" Casey asked.

"A little," he said. "Thanks for asking." He put his head on Emily's shoulder. Emily cracked up, but Casey did her best not to.

"Edwin," Casey sing-songed. "Your bed misses you." She stopped short of bringing up Mr. Fuzzy, his bear.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I can take a hint."

"Could've fooled me," Casey said.

"Good night, _Emily_," Edwin said, getting up.

"'Night Edwin," Emily said.

Before he'd had a chance to get out of earshot, Emily stage-whispered. "So _cute_!"

"Don't tell him that," Casey stage-whispered back. "He'll be impossible to live with."

"So what were we talking about?"Emily asked. "Oh yeah, the fact that you are completely oblivious to your surroundings and therefore do not notice the boys who fall at your feet?"

"Stop saying that!" Casey said.

"All I'm saying is that you need to pay more attention to the way people look at you," Emily said. "That's all."

"Whatever you say," Casey said. It was nice of Emily to try to boost her confidence, but she knew baloney when she heard it.

But she planned to give her friend the benefit of the doubt and at least consider her point of view.

Over the next three days, she tried to see Emily's point. At first, the only thing she saw was the pointing and laughing that came after she walked into a pillar in the hall on the way to gym class. Two guys helped her up. One of them brushed his hand across her butt and then let that same hand linger on the small of her back. It didn't occur to her that he'd done that on purpose until later.

Then she noticed that Noah Epstein, her lab partner in bio, rarely looked her in the eye. She'd noticed this before, of course. At first, she'd thought that he was shy, but it was only after her talk with Emily that she looked up from their experiment long enough to see where his eyes were.

All of this was well-documented in her diary, of course. She really couldn't think unless she wrote stuff down, as weird as it made her look. But try as she might, the only conclusion she could come to was that men were pigs.

Paul laughed when she brought the subject up at their weekly meeting. She guessed she'd expected him to.

"Are you just figuring that out?" he asked.

"Aren't you supposed to say that making sweeping generalizations like that is unfair and that my reasoning is fallacious?" Casey asked.

"My daughter is thirteen," Paul said. "I've _already_ had to chase boys off my porch. So no."

"Well, that doesn't really give me hope for humanity," Casey said.

"Aw, why?" Paul asked. "It's been like this for thousands of years, if not millions. Though I will say that if anyone does anything that makes you uncomfortable you do need to stand up for yourself. No one has the right to show disrespect to you."

"I know," Casey said.

"And you know that if they did that you should never be afraid to make a report of it, right?" Paul said.

"Yes," Casey said. She felt some pamphlets coming on.

"I think that just for future reference, you should take one of these pamphlets, with some numbers you can call," Paul said.

Casey took them even though she had a folder full of pamphlets from him already.

"Anything else on your mind?" Paul asked.

"No more than usual," Casey said. "I have my ASL1 final coming and I'm pretty scared of that, but at least it doesn't affect my GPA. Christmas is coming and I said I'd work on the toy drive. Then there's babysitting and Christmas shopping and Derek's birthday..."

"Sounds like you have a lot on your plate," Paul said. Then he paused and thought for a second. "Derek's birthday?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "He's my brother. I figure I have to be nice to him _sometime_."

Paul, for some reason, found that funny. "Of course, ya do."

"It's nothing I can't handle, though," Casey said. "I'm not in the holiday dance recital this year, so that's one less thing."

"As long as you don't overdo things," Paul said, sounding all paternal, like he knew that she would totally overdo things.

"I won't," she said, indignantly.

"Good," Paul said. He looked at his watch. "On that note, time's up."

Sam had hockey practice so he couldn't tutor her. That meant that this was one of the few days in which she could go straight home and get a jump on her homework. She felt pretty ahead of the game, actually, so she took some time to knock around online.

And then she saw it. And squealed.

"What?" Lizzie said, careening into the room. "Another spider? Don't kill it!"

"No," Casey said. "Come here."

"It better not be another close up of a rhino's butt," Lizzie said. "I love animals but even I have my limits."

"Who showed you that?" Casey asked.

"Edwin."

Casey shook her head. "No rhinos. Just an email from Dad."

Lizzie squealed. Casey opened it.

_Girls_, it read. _Am going to be in Toronto this weekend. Might be presumptuous to ask a couple of popular girls like yourselves, but would you maybe come out to eat with your old dad?Ask your mom and give me a call. Dad._

She picked her phone up immediately.

"Dad!" she said when he picked up.

"Casey!" he echoed. "You get my message?"

"Yeah," Casey said.

"Hi Dad," Lizzie said in the background. Casey really needed to ask her Mom and George about the possibility of a speakerphone because neither girl wanted to go downstairs to hunt for the cordless.

Dad was on his way somewhere, but somehow during their roughly four minute conversation, Casey talked him out of the restaurant and into dinner at the house.

"Oh God," Lizzie said.

"It'll be cool," Casey said.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "Maybe Mom won't go nuclear."

"'Course not," Casey said. "It's perfect. You'll see. Derek's even taking Kendra to that dance. It'll be perfect."

TBC

A/N: In case you're curious, cued speech is a system of gestures (not a language) that has been used to aid the Deaf in the acquisition of language and the improvement of literacy. It has sometimes been used for speech therapy and also to help deaf and hard-of-hearing people to learn foreign languages.


	27. Chapter 27

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-seven.

Part One: Dennis.

Parental guilt. It could be a very powerful thing. Dennis McDonald was a man who had conquered the scariest judges this side of Judy, a man who could get a jury on his side against John Grisham himself (okay, outside of a dream he'd had once, that had never happened, but he was convinced that he could win against the man, even if all the jurors thought Grisham was cuter). But against his daughters, he was powerless. Lizzie usually used her powers for good, but Casey was another story.

This is why he was flying up to the old apartment in Toronto and then driving to London to have dinner with the new guy and the girls' new family. He didn't know that much about George—Casey had had uncharacteristic trouble describing the man, had said "I dunno, he's just..._George_. Very George-like. You'll like him."

_Uh huh_, he thought. _Sounds likely_. From what he'd heard already, this George sounded like the Anti-Dennis, one more way for the universe to show him how thoroughly he'd blown it. He hated screwing things up.

And of course this George just _had_ to be a lawyer.

"Atticus Finch with a little Sandy Cohen thrown in?" Julie, his assistant had said before he left on Friday. He might have been in the midst of a little rant.

"Sandy _who_?" Dennis asked.

"The _OC_," she explained. "Peter Gallagher. Hot public defender who surfs before he goes into the office."

"You _watch_ that show?" he asked. "Do I not give you enough to do?"

"Hate on my show, I spit in your coffee," she joked. At least he hoped she was joking. She was lucky he wasn't much good without her.

And that was the point when he got the mental image of Nora hanging off of the love child of Peter Gallagher and Gregory Peck. This weekend was going to suck.

But Dennis dealt with this the way he dealt with everything. With preparation.

Information hadn't exactly been forthcoming right after the wedding. At least not from Casey.

"The jury's still out," she said, over and over the first month or so. After that, as far as Dennis could tell, the jury hung itself.

So he got the lowdown from Lizzie. She gave him a good breakdown, and he took notes. The notetaking and his love of 3 x 5 cards often earned him some funny looks from colleagues sometimes but he didn't get where he was by leaving things up to chance. He was gifted when it came to imagining things that could go wrong. This was, fortunately or unfortunately, something that he'd passed on to Casey.

Whether or not it made him look like a geek, he didn't want to make a fool of himself by forgetting which kid was deaf, for example, and talking at him a mile a minute the way he did when he was nervous, another thing he passed on to Casey.

Lizzie gave him directions from the highway exit and they were perfect. He hadn't checked it against MapQuest,(Lizzie was brilliant, but she was only eleven.) _hoping_ to get at least a little bit lost. But no. In he pulled to the driveway, right on time.

He spent a minute or so staring at his dashboard, psyching himself up. He really wanted to see the girls even if they'd shot up as much as he imagined they would have in the last few months. He was just a little afraid of Nora and Atticus Venturi.

While he stalled, a cute girl led a boy out of the house next door. By the look on the boy's face, he just met her parents. It was a look of pure trauma. He remembered that feeling. The girl sized Dennis, and his car, up as he finally stepped out.

"Hi Casey's Dad," the girl said. "I'm Emily. This is Sheldon. Casey's really excited that you're coming, seriously, it's like all she's talked about in the last few days."

"Yeah, I was excited to come too," he said, though excited wasn't really the right word. He shook hands with both kids, even though Sheldon didn't look like he wanted anything to do with any girl's father ever again in life. Once again, Dennis could sympathize. Though he also mourned the fact that he wouldn't be the one to scare away his girls' potential boyfriends. And he's sure there would be many of them.

"Guess we'll just leave you to it," Emily said. She tugged on Sheldon's arm.

_Heel_, Dennis thought.

"Awesome convertible, by the way," Emily said.

"Awesome," Sheldon echoed.

"Thanks," Dennis said.

He turned back toward the house and came down the path. He knocked on the door.

"Pizza guy," he said.

"Pizza guy?" Casey said, puzzled, as she opened the door. "We didn't—"

Dennis shook his head and waited for her to catch up. Then he picked her up and spun her. He grabbed Lizzie and did the same as soon as she appeared.

"That is so not funny because Edwin's been threatening to order pizza all day," Casey said.

"He's afraid of her cooking," Lizzie said.

"Hey!" Casey said.

"What?" Lizzie said. "_I_ didn't say you couldn't cook. I said that Edwin _thinks_ you can't."

"You didn't have to cook," Dennis said. "I would've been happy with pizza."

"Nope," Casey said. "We are having grilled, herb-crusted tilapia with steamed asparagus and garlic and rosemary mashed potatoes. You can have pizza any day."

"Wow," Dennis said. Casey beamed.

"So why don't you have a seat, get comfy, and I will be out with cheese and crackers and stuff. Want something to drink?" Casey said in one breath.

"I can use some chocolate milk," a boy said as he passed.

"You know where the kitchen is," Casey said, stopping just long enough to yank off a clip on tie that, knowing Casey, she probably told him to put on in the first place.

"But you won't let me in the kitchen," the kid said.

Casey sighed. "Fine," she said. "Sit."

He did. Then he turned to Dennis and stuck out his hand like a born politician. "Edwin Venturi, how ya doin?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

Dennis properly introduced himself, then sat back and let the kid grill him about New York and the Yankees, and anything else that popped into his head. Lizzie managed to get a few words in, and then Venturi number two came bouncing down the stairs in a little party dress. She tippy-tapped on the uncarpeted section of floor as soon as she could.

_Special occasion shoes_, Dennis thought. _Oh how I remember that phase._ The little cutie realized she was being watched.

"Hi!" she sing-songed. "I'm Marti! Casey's cooking ya know, but she said the fish doesn't have bones in it." She said that like she wasn't sure Casey was to be trusted.

"Good thing," Dennis said. "I'm not a fan of the bones either. But I'll tell you what, Casey _really_ hates em, so she'll make sure there isn't a bone anywhere near her fish."

"Cool," Marti said, sitting down next to Lizzie. So he passed the Marti test, at least.

Just when Dennis was starting to relax and get the feeling that he could listen to these three all night, with the odd, shouted contribution from Casey, of course, George emerged.

He didn't look like any of the TV lawyers his assistant had a crush on, but he still seemed miles cooler than Dennis felt at that moment. Plus there was still Nora and one more kid to deal with.

Nora finally appeared, smiling her tight smile, the one that was one eighth the size of her regular one.

Dennis stood up when she came in and there was an awkward moment when they just stood there. He heard the theme to _High Noon_ in his head. Then, unable to come up with a better idea, he made a face at her. She rolled her eyes and more teeth appeared like magic.

"Hey Nora," he said, his eyes still crossed.

"Hey Dennis," she said, shrugging and leaning in for a stiff little peck.

"You're a lucky man, George," Dennis said.

"Don't I know it," George said. "We'd all be completely hopeless without her. You know, instead of just partially hopeless."

The rest of Nora's teeth showed. She had the widest smile in the universe, and she didn't pull it out for just anyone.

Dennis was about to ask about the other kid (_David? _He thought. _No—Derek! That's it._) when there was a thud and an ouch from the kitchen. Everyone turned to see her rubbing her head and glaring at the offending kitchen cabinet.

"I'm okay!" Casey said before anyone could come running.

"Are you sure?" Dennis and George said at almost the same time.

"I'm fine!" Casey said. Lizzie began to inch toward the kitchen, her Spidey senses probably tingling. She was likely the only one allowed to help.

"So wasn't there one more kid?" Dennis asked.

"He had a previous engagement," Casey called as she chopped something.

"Derek," Nora said. "He promised he'd take his girlfriend to a dance, and he couldn't cancel on her because it was last-minute..."

"And you just don't say no to Kendra," Edwin said. Marti nodded.

"Sounds serious," Dennis said.

"He's fifteen," Nora said. "They're _all_ serious. It has been a couple of weeks, though, so, you know."

"I do," Dennis said.

"More food for us," Casey said.

Part Two: Derek.

The dance was sucky, as expected. It was darkish and there were colored lights. Some joker thought it was a good idea to put in a strobe to boot, but people must have complained of headaches because the flashing quit early on and didn't reappear. Signing and lipreading were still impossible. He could see Kendra yelling over the music so that she could talk to her friends, and he got the feeling that they couldn't understand each other either. It was a losing battle, anyway, because if Derek could feel the thumping of the music in the _parking lot_, that meant it was way too loud inside. For Derek and Kendra, it was an almost completely nonverbal date.

She'd pull him close and dance with him—or, more accurately, _near_ him because he still would not dance and no amount of rubbing against him was going to get him to do that. Though she was welcome to keep trying as much as she wanted. Then she'd yell at her friends and they'd yell back and she'd send him to get sodas, miming popping a can open and chugging.

They lasted about an hour, long enough to see the chaperones separate Ralph from the blonde _he_ was rubbing against three times and Sheldon Schlepper almost injure himself twice. Then Kendra took pity on Derek and started pulling him toward the door.

"Yeah, so that new deejay is _so_ not working out," Kendra said once they'd gotten to the parking lot again.

"Nope," Derek said. He wanted to say something about how it felt like one continuous song was playing for the past forty minutes, but he knew that couldn't be possible so he kept his mouth shut.

"Well, we made an appearance, I guess," Kendra said. "People have seen my outfit, and I know you wanna check out Casey's Dad and make sure she doesn't burn the house down."

"Really?"

"Yeah, let's go," Kendra said.

"Best. Girlfriend. Ever," he said.

"I know," Kendra said.

As they pulled up to the house, Derek thought two things: _Sweet convertible,_ and _No firetrucks. No smoke, no ambulances. So far, so good._

"Front door or back?" Kendra asked after she shut off the engine.

He thought about it for a second. "Back," he said.

"You're going to be nice and helpful and not mess with Casey tonight, right?" Kendra asked.

"Mess with Casey?" he asked. "Why would I do that?"

"De-_rek_!"

_Ooh, she can do that too_, he thought. _That's scary._

"Nah, she's got knives and a rolling pin and stuff," Derek said.

"Good," Kendra said, giving him that "you're a good little Derek" smile again.

As soon as they came in Casey froze over what she was doing. She stood there, crusty potato masher in the air over the pot as her eyes widened.

"Um," she said.

"What are we doing here?" Derek supplied.

"Okay," Casey said. "That." She set the masher down into the potatoes again and they splattered upward nailing her on one cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. He laughed a little.

"What's so funny?" Casey said, pointing the masher at him. When she swung it, more potatoes and cream and stuff flew. He and Kendra stepped out of the line of fire, and he laughed a little harder.

"—question," Casey said. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to the dance."

"We did," Derek said. Kendra began to say something next to him. He turned to look.

"—lucky you didn't bother to go," Kendra said. "The deejay was awful, and, you know, — to check up on you, so—"

"What! Check up on her?" Derek asked. "I did not."

"No?" Kendra asked.

"No," Derek said.

Kendra smirked like she didn't believe him. Smart girl. But he wasn't about to admit to anything.

"No," Derek repeated. "This is more of a sociological thing."

"—know what — means?" Casey asked. His mind filled in the blanks.

"Sorta," Derek said.

"I don't know what I want more, you out of the kitchen or away from my Dad," Casey said.

It was then that Derek noticed everyone watching them from the living room.

"Heeey," Derek said, putting on a game show host face.

"You have to be Derek," Casey's Dad said, coming over and shaking Derek's hand. "Which would make you Kendra. I'm Dennis. Heard a lot about you, both of you, actually."

"Lies, all of them," Derek said. "Nobody can prove anything."

Dennis laughed, just like he was supposed to. Kendra turned a dining room chair around and sat down, which left Derek with the arm of the couch, so he perched on it and reached for Lizzie's hair. It was curled and sprayed, probably by Casey. He gently pulled on a curl and watched it bounce back.

"Do that again," Lizzie signed. "I dare you."

He shrugged and reached for another and she slapped his hand away.

"This hair was not your idea, was it?" Derek signed.

"Course not," Lizzie signed.

He put his hand on top of her head and felt the crunchiness. She reached for his hair, then, and the two of them had a little pretend slapfight until Lizzie called something out to Casey.

"Huh?" Derek said.

"Told her to lighten up," Lizzie said. "She thinks we're gonna break things."

A couple of minutes later, Edwin, who was telling a story and gesturing wildly knocked over a lamp. It didn't break. He righted it, barely missing a beat.

Dennis went into the kitchen, probably to help, or talk to her, have some kind of sickening father-daughter moment, Derek didn't know, but Casey promptly chased the man out.

Derek was talking to Kendra in a corner so he didn't see much of what happened next. He smelled the smoke, but he knew that that grill pan Casey was using always smoked a little so he didn't worry. But suddenly there was an unholy commotion. All he saw was Kendra looking up in shock and then he turned and saw adults rushing toward the kitchen.

"Crap," Derek said, and tried to get a peek. "What'd she do?"

Kendra knew just a little more than he did. "She screamed. I think she burned herself."

By the time Derek and Kendra got to the kitchen, blocking Marti and Lizzie who were extra-special anxious, his Dad had turned the burner off on the fish and was sticking them onto a plate. He was having a hard time scraping the pieces off of the grill and ended up with more fish crumbs than anything else. Dennis opened the door to let the smoke out and Nora had Casey at the sink.

Dad was the first to see Derek standing there.

"It's not too bad," Dad signed. "Get the first aid kit?" He pointed behind Derek.

Derek went and got the little tool box with the first aid stuff in it. The family had three or four of these, scattered throughout the house. They were an accident-prone bunch.

Kendra was a little taken aback by the size of the box and its contents when he opened it.

"What?" Derek said.

"We just have some band-aids and a bottle of alcohol at my house," she said.

"You don't live with Klutzilla," he said. The word Klutzilla was halfway out of his mouth before he realized that that was the wrongest thing he could possibly have said because somehow through the chaos, Casey heard him.

Two things happened: Kendra backhanded his shoulder and a bag of frozen lima beans that Casey had been holding on the burn on her arm flew at his head. He caught it.

"Go get the videocamera," Casey said. "You're missing all the good stuff."

_Crap, crappity-crap_, Derek thought. _I'm so going to get it._ Her face, in the less than a minute since all of this started, had gotten so blotchy and puffy that all thought left his head. He handed her lima beans back. It was all he could think of to do.

"Get out!" Casey yelled. Everybody jumped. He held his hands up in surrender and backed off.

"Should I, um—" Kendra said, pointing toward the front door.

"Yeah," Derek said.

"Think so," Edwin said.

"I would if I could," Lizzie said.

"Okay," Kendra said. She kissed him on the cheek and took off.

He peeked into the kitchen again, through the doors and saw Dennis holding Casey while she continued to cry. Nora was cleaning up some of the mess and Dad was on the phone, the pizza menu in his hand.

_This is not the best time to remind him to get sausage __and__ pepperoni,_ Derek thought and closed the pocket doors. To give Casey some privacy. And to make sure that Marti didn't catch the crying bug. He was being selfless. It had nothing to do with how susceptible_ he_ was to the crying bug, or at least the do-anything-to-stop-people-from-crying-bug.

Derek waited and nothing happened for a while, but Marti kept looking at the closed kitchen doors until Edwin came up behind her and tickled her. The two of them landed on the couch as she tried to fight him off. That distracted her long enough for the grownups to start trickling back in. Minus Casey.

He threw a questioning look Dad's way.

"Casey wants to be alone for a few minutes," Dad said. He sat down on the couch and started making small talk with Dennis, who, Derek guessed, was used to this sort of thing from Casey because he didn't seem too stressed.

He gave her two minutes before he slipped through the doors. She must have heard him come in, but she ignored him and messed around with something in the sink.

"Hey," he said. She didn't react much. He saw her shoulders rise and fall. It could have been a sniff, a sigh, or even a growl. He couldn't tell from that angle.

Without turning around, she pointed back toward the door, as if that would make him get lost. He walked over and leaned against the counter next to her, half expecting to get a steel wool pad stuffed up his nose for his trouble. She continued to try to ignore him, but he stayed where he was until she turned around. She had the hiccups.

"Why are you here?" she signed, still hiccuping.

He decided to go with a really old joke. "When two people love each other..." he signed.

She glared. He shrugged.

"Why leave Kendra alone out there?"

"Kendra left," he signed. "She thinks I'm an ass."

"She's too smart for you," Casey signed.

"Probably."

She turned back to the sink, hoping he'd take a hint and leave, but he pretended not to pick up on it.

"Derek," she said, turning back to him. "Get lost."

There was still a pot on the stove. He went over to it and peeked under the lid. Mashed potatoes. He grabbed a spoon and took a bite, then another. He'd actually been looking forward to these when he saw her mashing them.

She stood in front of him until he looked up at her. He made her wait a couple more bites. He raised his eyebrows at her, mouth and hands full.

"What are you doing?"

He swallowed. "I'm hungry. Dinner was supposed to be half an hour ago."

"Whose fault is that?" she asked.

_What,_ he thought. _My fault? How does she get to that conclusion?_

"Whoever made that grill pan?" he asked, still hoping that she might smile if he was stupid enough.

No luck.

"I know you're not trying to say it's my fault," Derek said.

Casey said nothing.

"I burned you?" Derek asked.

"You made me..." she said, stopping herself from finishing the sentence.

"Made you what?" he asked.

She glared at him and said. "You made me nervous, okay?"

_I make __her__ nervous_, he thought. _That's rich. _

"I must have missed something," he said, spoon halfway to his mouth. "I make you nervous?"

"You know you do," she said."You go out of your way to mess with me sometimes."

He couldn't exactly deny that. It was just too much fun. But she made him nervous without even trying, so by his reasoning, she couldn't blame him for trying to keep up with her. He looked down and stirred the pot.

"Can you put that down while I'm talking to you?" she said.

"No, get your own," he said, stuffing another huge spoonful in his mouth. Then he rolled his eyes and put down the pot like it was a wrench to do so. It was his half-assed way of complimenting her cooking.

His cellphone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it for a minute, figuring it was Kendra wanting an update. He'd get back to her as soon as he had something to tell. She wasn't the most patient of girls, though, so he had to make this, whatever it was, quick.

"So how was I messing with you tonight?" he asked.

"You came home early,"she said.

_Here it comes_, he thought. _She's going to say that she didn't want me anywhere near her Dad. _

"If you had come twenty minutes later, it would have been okay," she said. "But no. You walk in while I'm struggling with everything so that you can laugh your ass off when I screw it all up."

"Am I laughing?" Derek said. "You burned yourself and it made you burn the fish. That could happen to anyone. Have you seen my Dad's hands?"

"I not only burned the fish," Casey said. "When I burned my arm, I knocked over a pot of steamed asparagus and spilled boiling water all over the place."

"I hate asparagus," he said.

"My Dad loves it," she said. She looked at the door toward the living room and paused for a second. He knew why. Somebody, probably Edwin, was stationed at the door, listening and reporting on what was going on.

"He's a great cook," she signed. "I see him—" She had to stop and think of a word. "Not enough. I wanted to make him a good meal."

"The potatoes are good," he signed. "You worry too much."

His pocket vibrated again.

"You should answer that," she said.

"In a minute," he said.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked.

"You to come out of the kitchen," he said.

"What?"

"You would cry in here all night," Derek signed. "Then you would cry more because your Dad was here and you didn't talk to him."

"You care?"

He shrugged. "No," he signed.

She gave him a couple of centimeters worth of a smile. "You're a jerk," she signed.

"Oh really? Just for that, you don't get any of your potatoes," he said, picking up the pot again and turning his back on her to protect it.

Part Three: George.

"This can go one of two ways," he whispered to Dennis after Derek disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'm listening," Dennis whispered back.

"Either he gets her to come out or they kill each other," George whispered.

"What's more likely?"

"They do have knives in there," Edwin whispered. After a handful of dirty looks flew his way, he said, "Kidding."

"Go eavesdrop," George told him.

Edwin pretended to be scandalized.

"George!" Nora whisper-screamed.

"Do it," George said. So Edwin did.

"He's joking around and she's not having it," Edwin signed. _He's done this before, _George thought as he translated for Dennis.

Edwin waited and listened. "Nothing," he signed. "They're either signing or she's giving him the silent treatment." Then, suddenly he held a hand up, which meant "WAIT! She says he makes her nervous and he's like 'what?' And she goes' you wanted me to screw up' and he's like 'you're not the only one to ever burn some food.'"

Edwin was clearly summarizing.

"Anything else?" George signed.

"No," Edwin signed.

"This type of thing happen often?" Dennis asked.

"You have no idea," Nora said. "Especially those two."

"So they're all pretty close, huh?" Dennis asked, grinning.

"They're getting there," George said.

"How long did it take for you to learn how to sign?" Dennis asked.

"I still feel like I don't have the hang," George said. "Took a little more than a year to feel like I could barely get by with it, but Ed and Marti have been at it since they were born, and you know how kids pick things up."

"Yeah," Dennis said. "I remember Lizzie, when she was two or three talking to her dolls in legalese."

"Dad," Lizzie said.

"Her bear wanted to approach the bench," Dennis said.

"Dad!"

"And Casey," Dennis began. Lizzie cooled off. It was okay if he busted Casey. "Used to write up contracts in crayon. If you used fuschia, the contract would be unbreakable."

"What would happen if you used burnt sienna?" Edwin asked. Everyone stared at him.

"What?" he said. "I think that's a legitimate question."

"So what about yours?" Dennis asked.

"Ed and Marti learned to read a little bit early," George said. "I think the closed-captioning on the TV helped with that, and the fingerspelling we did. And Derek ..."

"Kid's sharp," Dennis said.

"Nothing gets by him," Nora said.

"Does it drive you nuts?" Dennis asked.

"Yes," Nora, George, and Edwin said.

The doorbell rang. It was the pizza guy at long last.

Part Four: Casey.

Casey had a theory that stated that Derek physically could not be nice to her for more than a few minutes at a time. Edwin opened the door to tell them that the food was there, and suddenly it was every kid for himself.

"Good," Derek said. "'Cause I'd die of starvation if Julia Stepchild had her way."

"Be glad I didn't poison you," Casey said.

"How would I tell the difference?" Derek said.

"Shut up or no pizza," Mom said.

So they shut up until Derek stole a pepper off of Casey's veggie slice.

"De-_rek_," she said.

"Growing boy," he reminded her.

"Growing _what_?"she asked. "Besides fungus in your room."

"You gonna eat that?" he asked, pointing at her crust.

"Yes," she said. She took as big a bite as she could. Then she stole a little bit of cheese that had fallen off of his slice. He gave her a look that said, "I will get you later." She wasn't concerned. A little pizza seemed to be what the doctor ordered. Suddenly she wondered why she'd thought cooking was a good idea when there was pizza.

Her Dad seemed to find something funny.

"What?" Casey asked. Dad shrugged.

Then he changed the subject, asking her about her dance classes and stuff. Lizzie filled him in on all the teams she was on. It seemed like every time Casey turned around, Lizzie was on another team. Now it was basketball. Casey always thought of basketballs as something you ran from before it hit you in the nose. Again. She didn't know where her little sister got it, but was impressed nonetheless.

"What?" Lizzie said, catching Casey staring at her.

"Nothing," Casey said. "You're awesome." She petted Lizzie's hair, realizing now that all that hairspray she made Lizzie sit still for was a horrible idea.

"Um," Lizzie said. "Thanks? Feeling okay?"

_I'm in a drippy mood, but otherwise fine_, she thought. "I'm okay."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Derek gazing at Edwin, chin in hand, dopey grin on his face. She knew where this was going. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What?" Edwin said.

"Oh nothing," Derek said. "You just have a huge booger."

George whacked him over the head with one of the cloth napkins Casey'd made Lizzie put out.

_What was I thinking?_ she wondered. She'd just wanted to do things the way her Dad did on one of his rare days off, when he used to cook for them and pretend that they were in an exclusive restaurant, just for the four of them. Mom bought him a chef's hat for his birthday once.

Her Dad reached over and stroked her hair, only slightly less crunchy than Lizzie's. At least he looked happy to hang out with them. Maybe next time it wouldn't be so catastrophic.

When she said as much, he said, "Two words, Case: chicken marsala. Remember?"

Mom groaned.

"You see," Dad began. "I used to think that aprons were for sissies."

"I beg to differ," George said. "My Swedish Chef apron is one of my prized possessions."

"You have one of those?" Dad said. "Where'd you find it?"

"What happened with the chicken?" Marti asked. "The chicken—"

"Marsala, Smarti," Mom said.

"Okay, chicken marsala," Dad began again. "I was trying out a new recipe and I had the heat up too high, so the chicken stuck to the pan. I tried to unstick it and when it came loose and flipped over, it splattered me with hot oil. That was a couple of hours in the emergency room. I still have the scar across my abdomen."

"So the next week, Nora presented me with two or three aprons and matching potholders," Dad finished.

"Was there one of the 'burn, baby, burn' ones?" Edwin asked.

"Edwin," George said.

"Wanna answer that one, Nora?" Dad said.

"Who, me?" Mom said. "Okay, yeah, I couldn't resist getting him one of those."

"So you see, Casey," Dad said. "You have normal person accidents. I have the 'how did you even _do_ that?' type. You have no reason to be embarrassed. Also, I'm told the potatoes came out great."

"Huh?" Casey said. Derek was suddenly interested in the little plastic thing that kept the pizza from sticking to the top of the box. He was twirling it in his hand and avoiding eye contact. He'd been watching the whole exchange and put his head down as suddenly as her own head had turned to look at him.

She'd deal with him later. Derek wasn't sweet often, but on the rare occasion that he was, she got the added bonus of calling him on it and watching him turn red. Meanwhile, she still had her Dad to entertain.

Then she remembered something. She waved her hand to get Derek's attention. "Did you ever get back to Kendra?"

His eyes got big. "No," he said.

"Well, you're dead," Dad teased.

"Dead," George agreed.

"Be right back," Derek said. He excused himself to the kitchen for a minute and came back shaking his head. Casey decided that just this once, she owed him one. She'd call Kendra later if she had to.

"Wanna save his butt?" Dad whispered in her ear.

"How?"

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the kitchen. She followed him in.

"Watch this," he pulled out his phone. "Hey, Julie? Are you terribly busy? I didn't interrupt anything did I? Okay. I was wondering if you could send someone some flowers? Nah, my girls prefer cash. Ow!" Casey pinched him. "No this is for one of the girls' new stepbrothers. He's in the doghouse with his girlfriend, and, you know, I'm very familiar with the doghouse, so I thought I'd help a brother out. Yeah? You will? I knew I didn't pay you enough. I'll have him send you an email, and the sushi is on me on Monday."

"So this Julie," Casey said, starting to grin.

"My assistant," Dad said. "I'm old enough to be invisible to her."

"So no girlfriend?"

"Not yet," Dad said. "Not everyone is as lucky as your mother, but maybe I'll stumble into another woman I don't deserve someday."

"George is pretty great," Casey said.

"He is," Dad agreed. "Your Mom's happy."

"Yeah."

"And so are you," he said.

"Well..."

"You are," Dad said. "Admit it. Barring an incident here and there, you're having the time of your life. I can see it on your face."

"I will not answer that without a lawyer present," Casey said.

"I am a lawyer," Dad said.

"Humph," Casey said.

"Uh-huh," Dad said in that "you can't fool me" way. "Let's go save your stepbrother's butt and have him be forever in your debt."

"Okay," Casey said, following him back to the table.

"And I thought you said something about cash?" Casey said.

Part Five: Nora.

When Casey said that she'd invited Dennis over, without asking her first, she'd pictured much more carnage.

_Well, okay, carnage is too strong a word_, she thought. She expected something closer to the painful, neverending, ulcer-inducing silence that went along with her and Dennis having to put up with each other.

George had helped to thaw things out, of course, and so had the kids, and when she saw how terrified Dennis himself looked under his usual cocky exterior, she thawed the rest of the way. She was willing to bet that there was a small collection of index cards either in his pocket or in the glove compartment of the convertible and that they were full of everything the girls had told him. Some things would never change.

Casey, meanwhile, had had her mini-disaster in the kitchen, but if that was the worst thing that could happen, Nora could live with it. Both Dennis and George were great with her, but it was Derek that had lured her out. She still didn't know how she felt about that, the power Derek seemed to have over her and the power she had over him. And she wasn't sure whether Dennis had noticed the way they were with each other. Dennis was no slouch though, if he hadn't seen it, he would. She just had no plans to point it out.

It was only a matter of time before the kids themselves figured it out. Still, all she could hope is that they would take it slow. Like, if they could wait until they were forty, that would be great.

For the moment, Derek still had a girlfriend, Dennis helped see to that. And Casey was still looking for a boyfriend or so she said. As surprisingly glad as she had been to see Dennis, but she was happy to see him go before the kids got any more obvious.

At about ten, just as Marti began to fall asleep on Edwin, and Edwin began to fall asleep on Lizzie, Dennis started the withdrawal process. He slipped the girls some money, what he called Dad Cash and promised that even though he couldn't see them on Christmas (he'd be in Europe someplace, Nora really hadn't been listening when he explained it) he would see them the weekend before.

Nora walked him out.

"It was good to see you, Dennis," she said.

"Shocking, wasn't it?" Dennis said.

"Um, well," Nora said, though why she'd deny it, she didn't know.

"I know," Dennis said. "You've got a really good thing going here."

"Don't I know it," Nora said.

"You deserve it," he said.

"Don't know what I did to deserve it," Nora joked.

"It's just your luck," Dennis said. "Enjoy it."

"I do," she said.

"I know," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with airport security."

"Strip search?"

"If I'm lucky," he said.

"Ew," Nora said.

"Talk to you soon," Dennis said, getting into the car. "Make sure everybody keeps you out of trouble."


	28. Chapter 28

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-eight.

Part One: Emily.

Emily's mother was starting to get a little antsy, having just realized how close Christmas really was. She was in full-on _Martha Stewart Living_ meltdown, arranging and rearranging scented candles that they weren't allowed to light, putting out the knick-knacks (unbreakable, thankfully except for the one of Santa playing the saxophone, which had been glued back together) and setting up the fake tree.

Emily needed to get out of the house in the worst way. It wasn't like she didn't have stress of her own, with two birthdays to deal with in the next week _and _Christmas...and Hanukkah to boot. So when Casey called her and suggested they head to the mall, she was out of the house before she even remembered to hang up the phone. She had to go back in, put the phone down, grab her jacket and her bag and contend with Dimi.

"Take me with you!" he said, hanging on her leg.

"Sorry, babes," she said. "We're getting girly things, like in the _bath _store, so..."

It was a total lie.

"Eww," Dimi said. It worked every time.

Then she met up with Casey, and the relief made her a little giddy. Emily pumped her friend for information about how her Dad's visit had gone, but she wasn't exactly forthcoming.

"Your Dad's the cutest," Emily said, unable to resist.

"Emily!"

"What?" she said. "He _is._"

"Dads are not cute!"

"George is cute."

"Gaaah!"

"Don't look at me like that," Emily said. "You know I don't mean it like 'Oh look at him, he's a DILF' because there's no ILF about the situation. I'm just saying that they're cute. Especially when they're staring at your front door with the same look on his face that Sheldon had after he met my Dad last night."

"I'm sure he had the same look on his face when he left," Casey said.

"Why?"

"Unmitigated disaster," Casey said. "I burned the food. I burned my arm." She pushed up her sleeve and showed Emily the gauze pad over the spot.

"We ordered pizza," Casey finished.

"That could happen to anyone," Emily said. She knew that Casey was usually a pretty good cook. She'd had her casserole before.

"So they tell me," Casey said, hopping onto the bus after Emily. "So where are we going?"

"I dunno," Emily said. "I figured we'd wander around and wait for inspiration to hit. Unless you have a plan?"

"Nope," Casey said. "Not a clue."

Emily looked at her in shock.

"Shut up," Casey said, smiling. "It's not like I don't have a list."

"Uh-huh," Emily said.

"It's just not exactly _complete_," Casey said.

"What's missing?" Emily asked, as if she didn't know.

"Derek," Casey mumbled. "I have most of my shopping done. I know what to get everyone else, and I don't know why I'm letting this drive me crazy because he might give _me_ some socks from the dollar store if I'm lucky. Why do I have to be such a perfectionist!"

"Good question," Emily said.

"So you're saying I should just relax?"

"Um..._yeah_," Emily said. "Only completely. You know that Derek will fall out of his recliner if you get him _anything_. Even socks from the dollar store. Now doesn't that take the pressure off?"

"No," Casey said. Emily smacked her forehead.

"Well, aren't _you_ worried?" Casey said. "Your boyfriend's birthday is in two days. Any ideas?"

"Nope," Emily said. "Not yet, anyway. I'll panic if we don't come up with something today."

Emily should have known that Casey couldn't just _pick_ something, that she had a system. One that apparently weighed the pros and cons of practical gifts.

"Looks like I met you just in time," Emily said, wrestling the day planner out of her hand.

"But it has those reinforced tabs," Casey said. Emily had a feeling she might have been kidding, but since it was Casey, one could never be sure.

"Believe me, Case, teenage boys don't care about tabs, reinforced or otherwise, kay?" Emily said. "Put yourself in Derek's shoes."

"His feet are so much bigger than mine," Casey said.

"I walked into that one," Emily said.

"Whose shoes were you wearing?"

"Shut it," Emily said. "You know what I mean. You know Derek well enough to know he doesn't want a day planner, so how 'bout we head for the DVD section?"

The DVD section yielded some possibilities, as did the store that sold the snarky t-shirts. Then they went into specialty candy store and had a hard time leaving.

"Casey," Emily said, not exactly relishing her role as the responsible one. When did that happen? "We can't spend all our money in here."

"Why not?"

"Does Derek even like the watermelon jelly beans?"

"Derek who?" Casey asked.

"What's gotten into you today?" Emily asked.

"The need for watermelon jellybeans," Casey said.

Emily waited for her to continue.

"And I have a million things to do this week, so I'm getting a little giddy," Casey giggled. "Ooh they have the buttered popcorn ones, too."

"Okay, before you start bouncing off the walls," Emily said, making Casey put the bags of jellybeans back for a minute and taking her to sit her down on a bench. "Or bouncing off the walls _more_, anyway. Why don't you tell me what you have to do and maybe I can help. We can make a list."

"I _have_ a list," Casey said, looking at Emily strangely. Usually Casey was the one trying to get Emily to make lists, but she guessed she could return the favor once in a while.

"Okay, so what's on the list?" Emily asked.

"Shopping; Derek's birthday; George's having an office party this week, so I have to babysit; the ASL final that I am so going to flunk and Derek said they'd all disown me and I'd have to sleep in the toolshed. I really gotta find out what the deal is with that toolshed."

"What? Toolshed?" Emily asked. "Slow down."

"I just don't wanna screw up the test, is my point," Casey said. "Mom and Lizzie actually had theirs already and Lizzie aced it, and I'm gonna be the one to blow it and embarrass the family."

"You're not going to embarrass the family," Emily said. "For the hundredth time, you worry too much."

"I know," Casey said. "I'm trying to be zen, you know? Get my mind off of it. Hence the jellybeans."

"Yeah," Emily said, "No sugar for you."

Part Two: Casey.

Tuesday went well enough for Casey to feel almost optimistic about the rest of the week. Before class, she presented Sheldon with his birthday present, the only birthday present she hadn't had trouble with, incidentally.

"Really?" he said when she handed him the little gift bag. Then he did something that nearly broke her heart—he moved to hug her but stopped himself, like touching her would be pushing the limits of her generosity somehow. This, she knew, was most likely her fault, so it was up to her to fix it.

"Ahem?" she said, holding her arms out. He went for the hug. That was more like it. "So, you gonna open it, or what?"

"Oh yeah," he said, sticking his hand into the bag. Then he looked up at her with a little smirk as he pulled out a little bag of gelt.

She grinned. "Keep going."

He pulled out a little journal.

"Casey!" Emily said. "Tell me that's not—"

"It's not a day planner Em," Casey said. "I know how you feel about me bringing organization to the masses."

"Whatever, Hermione," Emily said.

Sheldon opened the book to the first page and read: "Okay, Lout, fill this up and maybe it'll be worth Lennon and McCartney bucks someday. Casey."

That got her another hug.

She turned to Emily. "So, did you give him the—"

"Yeah," Emily said, giving her thumbs up. Emily got him a CD that she knew he had his eye on. Leonard Cohen. Both girls had shrugged until they saw "Hallelujah" on the track list.

_So that's one down, one to go_, Casey thought. Of course, she'd been a little more confident about what she got Sheldon. Even though she had spent roughly one-tenth the time with him that she'd spent with Derek., she knew him. In some ways, she _was_ him. She still had no clue about Derek, and the insecurity continued to eat at her.

Two days before, at the mall, she'd picked out what looked like the perfect gift, one that made Emily laugh until tears streamed down her face, but almost immediately after she'd gotten it, she wanted to return it. The urge to do so was strong enough to get Emily to confiscate the gift until Friday.

"For your own good," Emily had said. Which meant it was out of her hands.

At school, Sam did his best to boost her confidence, telling her she'd nail the final, _of course_ she'd do well, she was _Casey_ for Pete's sake.

"And anyway, it's ASL-1," Sam said. "You're not going for national certification."

"Certification for what?" Lana, his new girlfriend asked. She was willowy, blond, and laid back. The Anti-Casey. From the little Casey knew, the girl seemed to be a lot like Sam himself. She wondered how that worked out.

"To be an ASL interpreter," Sam explained. "It's supposed to be one of those huge exams. Like the bar, or the CPA exam or something."

"Yeah," Casey said. "I'll leave that one to you."

"Brrr," Sam said. But Casey thought that if anyone could do it, it would be him.

"But you're gonna do fine on it," Sam said. "If I do say so myself."

"Totally," Lana said. "You have the cutest teacher ever." She leaned on Sam; he put his arm around her.

"Well there _is_ that," Casey said. "I just don't feel like the best student."

Sam rolled his eyes, took his arm off of his girl and signed: "Tell me a joke."

Lana looked from Sam to Casey wondering if an explanation would come or if she should ask.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" Casey signed.

Sam snorted. "I ask her to tell me a joke and she gives me 'why'd the chicken cross the road?'"

"Tell me a _good_ joke," he signed.

"A guy walks into a bar," Casey signed.

Sam smiled. "Yeah?"

Casey paused. "Never mind. Don't know how that one ends."

Sam shook his head, one hand covering his face.

Inspiration hit, and Casey tapped his arm, forgetting for a second that she could have just called his name. She tended to get caught up in the language.

"Horse walks into a bar and the bartender says 'Why the long face?'" Casey signed.

"You're not funny," Sam signed. "But you'll ace the test."

"I am so funny!" Casey said. "And I just hope I pass the test."

"When's the last time you failed _anything_?" Lana asked. She was trying to be helpful, but...

"I don't fail," Casey said. "Ever. That's the problem."

"You worry too much," Lana said.

"So people tell me," Casey said.

"It's a hard habit to break," Sam said, grinning at her like it was more of a cute quirk of hers than anything else.

That whole week, Sam tried to show her that she knew more than she thought she did by pop quizzing her once in a while. It didn't calm her down. Really, there was no calming Casey down. It got to the point where she couldn't even enjoy her favorite show without wondering what the sign for Chrismukkah would be. Or bar-mitzvakkah for that matter. She tried fingerspelling both and found that she couldn't, and the closed-captioning went by too fast to be much help. That's how obsessed she had become.

Derek tried to stifle a laugh when he saw what she was doing. When she heard him, she sat on her hands, turned to him, and glared. "Don't you have homework to do?"

"Ha! Good one," Derek said.

"Why are you here?" Casey asked. "Thought you hated this show."

"The girls are cute," he said. "Why are you sitting like that?"

She glared some more.

"Relax," he signed, crossing his arms at the wrist over his chest.

That was Thursday. Friday was Derek's birthday, which didn't really provide much of a distraction, except that she started to worry about his present all over again. Of course, that particular worry was something only Emily knew about, and for once, she was keeping the secret.

"How you doing?" Emily asked at school that day.

"Is there any way I can skip to tomorrow night?" Casey asked.

She managed to steer clear of Derek himself most of the school day because someone was always surrounding him. Kendra made sure the girls kept a safe enough distance, under penalty of death, but it seemed like someone was always clapping him on the back, asking him when he was taking his driver's test, whether he was having a party, stuff like that.

Derek fell asleep on the ride home. Kendra, who had driven Derek, Casey, and Emily that day, took out her cell phone and snapped a picture of him with his head against the window before waking him up.

"He's like a little sleeping kitty," she cooed. "Look at him."

"It's only a matter of time before the drool starts," Casey joked.

"Aw," Kendra said, ruffling Derek's hair, until his eyes fluttered open.

"Mmph," he said. It took him a second to get it together and realize that the front seat of a car was not the most comfortable or dignified place to sleep. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, then refocused them on Kendra as Casey and Emily watched. Emily seemed to agree with Kendra that a sleeping Derek was too cute to stand.

"Hey, Sleepyhead," Kendra said.

"Hey," Derek said, cracking a smile.

"Um," Casey said undoing her seatbelt and doing her best to get lost as fast as possible. "Thanks again for the ride, Kendra."

Kendra cut her eyes over to Casey and said, "Anytime."

Derek glanced at Casey and Emily in the backseat like he'd forgotten they were there. Casey began to pull at Emily's arm to remind her that it was time to get out of the car. Emily, for her part, seemed content to watch the two of them all night.

"Em," Casey said, giving her arm another yank.

"Okay!" Emily said sliding over and getting out of the car. "Jeez!" They both ran into Emily's house to get Derek's presents then watched from Emily's window until Derek and Kendra made it into the house. Then, thinking that they were slick, they took the back door, coming face to face with the lovebirds as Derek set up milk and cookies for the two of them.

Casey's eyes bugged as she hid his gift behind her back. Emily shook her head.

"Happy birthday, Derek," she said, handing _her _package over. He gave the wrapping an almighty rip and revealed the DVD of the _Clerks_ cartoon that Emily got him.

"Thanks, Em," he said, leaning in for the hug and little friendly cheek peck as Kendra looked anywhere but at them.

Soon enough, Derek became interested in what Casey had behind her back. He asked what was in her hand, so she showed him an empty hand.

"The other hand," he said. She showed him the other empty hand. That was when he got grabby and he had to chase her around the kitchen table and wrestle for a few seconds before she let him have it.

_Not too late to grab it back and promise to get him something else_, Casey thought as he took the lid off the little gift box and revealed the t-shirt she'd gotten him.

_**Yes, as a matter of fact it IS all about ME**_, the shirt read.

He laughed so hard that it took him a minute to even be able to sign a response. As soon as he'd gotten himself more under control, he signed, "You admit it!"

"It was meant to be ironic," Casey said.

"You keep telling yourself that," Derek wheezed.

"Told you it was perfect," Emily said.

"Yeah, yeah," Casey said.

After a minute, Kendra piped up. "You forget something, Derek?"

"Thank you," he said dutifully, like a little kid, making Kendra laugh.

"You're very welcome," Casey said, like a first grade teacher.

Kendra nudged Derek. "What?" he asked.

"Doesn't she get a hug?" Kendra asked. He looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Well, that's just crazy talk," Casey said. She took one of Derek's cookies, took a bite out of it, and nodded toward the living room, beckoning Emily to follow her out. With Casey's free hand, she ruffled Derek's hair as he tried to slap her hand away. Consummate gentleman that he was, Derek offered _Emily_ a cookie and she took it on her way back to her house.

Part Three: Shawn.

Shawn Schlepper was on chauffeur duty. It served him right for being dateless on a Friday. Plus, his little bro's birthday had just passed, so he needed to be nice to him for at least a couple more days.

"You coming or what?" Shawn said, beating on the bathroom door. Sheldon was in there, checking for zits or flossing again, being generally compulsive. If he didn't nag him, the kid would never be ready.

"Okay, okay," Sheldon said, opening the door and leading the way out.

Emily looked a little uneasy when they got there. She waited outside for them to avoid them having to deal with her scary Dad, who was watching from the window. Shawn smiled and waved as the man glared at him and Sheldon.

"Um?" Emily said, twisting her bracelet.

"Uh-oh," Sheldon said.

"This can't be good," Shawn said.

"Guys?" Emily asked. "Think we have room for one more?"

"Um," Shawn said. Technically, they were taking the minivan, but...

"Derek just texted me," Emily said. She handed her phone to Sheldon. Sheldon snorted and showed Shawn what it said.

_PLEASE GET HER OUT OF HERE!!! _the text read. _Take her with you. I beg you_.

"Think we can double?" Emily asked, giving Shawn the puppy eyes. So his choices were to stay home and relax in front of the TV or to take out a cute girl who was nonetheless a total lost cause. And now _Sheldon_ was giving him the puppy eyes.

Shawn groaned. "If she's okay, I'm okay."

Emily squealed and hugged him.

"You're the best," she said.

"I know," he said.

She led the way to Casey's door and rang the bell. Derek answered.

"Awesome," he said, yanking Shawn into the house, which smelled like Chinese food and chocolate. Kendra Mason waved at them from her spot on the couch. Before Shawn knew what was going on, he was being offered cake by Casey's cute Mom. He looked up and caught a glimpse of Casey running past him like she was on fire. Emily stopped her at the foot of the stairs and took the clip thingee out of her hair and it tumbled down exactly like hair does in movies. All that was missing was the slow motion head shake. Or the wind machine.

"We'll be right back," Emily said, dragging Casey upstairs. Kendra followed.

"Have a seat, boys," Casey's Mom said. Then there was a whirlwind of people talking to him and sizing him up.

"So?" Derek's little brother asked. "What are your intentions toward Casey?"

"Shut it, Edwin," A little girl who had to be Lizzie said.

"Yeah, shut it, Edwin," another, smaller girl (_Mandy?_ He thought, _Mary? Marti?_) said. "He's pretty." Sheldon stifled a laugh. The boy knew better than to laugh out loud at that.

"Um," Shawn said. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome," she said. His little brother, who had a death wish, stood against the kitchen counter, his shoulders shaking.

"What's so funny, Sheldon?" the little girl asked, busting him.

"Nothing, Marti," Sheldon said, putting a lid on it, finally.

_Marti!_ Shawn thought. _That's her name! _

She nodded, like "I thought so."

He met Derek's Dad, who wasn't nearly as scary as Emily's.

After a few minutes in the kitchen with everybody in the western world, Casey came down in a pair of tight jeans, with her hair brushed. Kendra gave her a little push toward the kitchen.

"Um, hey," Casey said. The poor thing. "I guess we're going out?"

To lighten the mood, Shawn took her hand and bowed really low to kiss it. Marti and Lizzie giggled. Casey rolled her eyes.

"After you, Milady," Shawn tried. Casey laughed.

"Dork," she said.

"I know you are, but what am I?" Shawn said. The ice was broken. Shawn wondered how many people in the house thought that this was actually a date. Kendra seemed to think it was. She was looking at them like she approved. Casey wasn't the least bit interested in him, but what the hell. He could still show her a good time.

Part Four: Derek.

Shortly after Casey left, most everyone else had gotten lost and given Derek and Kendra the living room to themselves to watch a movie. For a change, she let him pick, so he popped _Shaun of the Dead_ into the DVD player.

He smirked at the title, thinking _what have I done? _But he put the movie in anyway because he suddenly wanted to see some blood and guts. Kendra assured him that she could take it, that she'd seen it before.

"Besides," she said. "How much of it are we really going to _watch_?"

He smiled at her and hit play. He was really lucky to have her. Which made him feel really guilty for not giving her his undivided attention even while she nibbled on his earlobe.

There was no reason for him to be angry at Shawn Schlepper for coming into his house, for not being busy that night. Of all the people he could have called to get Casey out of the house and away from her 3 x 5 cards and study guides, he had to get the one who made even Nora giggle like a teenager.

_Kendra_, he thought. _Kendra, Kendra, Kendra. _

He looked her in the eye and one corner of her mouth quirked up in mischief. He loved when she looked at him like that. When she did that, he could forget about whatshername.

_Casey,_ he thought. _Dammit! Okay, moron, this was your idea, and it was actually a good idea for a change. She's off having a good time and not worrying about that test, and maybe she can be happy with that...that..._

_Grrrrr_, he thought.

His hands were up under Kendra's sweater, and he should really have been paying attention to the unprecedented awesomeness of that.

_Focus, dumbass,_ he thought. _Awesome girlfriend. In front of you. _

He felt the vibrations of a little moan as he kissed her neck, and then there was a giggle.

"Do that again," he said. His speech might not have been too clear given the late hour and the fact that he was partially talking into her sweater. She giggled again, so he figured he'd been clear enough. Or that he could have said anything, could have told one of Edwin's lame jokes and gotten the same response.

By the time she stopped his hands from wandering any further, he was thinking about Casey again, so he was almost glad that Kendra brought him back to earth.

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

Part One: Casey.

"Seriously, Case?" Shawn said, putting down his soda for a second. "Are those _index _cards?"

"No," Casey lied.

"Hand 'em over," he said, holding out his hand, waggling the fingers expectantly.

"But."

"Casey!" he said. He managed to sound like Casey's old headmaster at Fletcher Academy. So she gave him her notes. He stuck them in his back pocket. "I'm under strict orders here and there will be no studying under my watch."

"Strict orders?" Casey asked. "From whom?"

"Far as I can tell there's a chain of command," Shawn said. They were at Smelly Nelly's He nodded toward the corner booth, about five feet away, where Sheldon and Emily were doing their best to pretend that they were alone. "I'm under orders from the girlfriend of my little brother who somehow holds the power of the puppy face, and _she_ is under orders from your bro..."

"Step-bro," Casey said.

"Step-bro," he amended. "Who as far as I can see answers to the little one—um, Marti?"

"Marti," she agreed. "So what are these 'orders' of which you speak?"

"To make sure that you goof off for a couple hours," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm not good at goofing off," she said.

"I am," he said. "_And _I'm bossy, so you're covered."

"What's in it for you?"

"I didn't have anything else to do," he said. "Plus, a good deed, a _mitzvah_ if you will, is its own reward."

"Yeah," Casey said. "You're a real humanitarian."

"Don't be hatin'" he said.

"What?" she asked. "Did you just say 'don't be hate-in?' Oh no you di'in't!"

"Ooh," Shawn said. "Do that again? I want it for my new ringtone."

"Shut up," Casey said.

"And you did the little head-wiggle, too," he said, imitating her. He took out his camera phone and pointed it at her. "Come on, you know you want to."

"Is this an older brother thing?" Casey asked. "You tease to live and live to tease?"

"I am not at liberty to say," Shawn said.

Casey brandished a breadstick at him as threateningly as she could.

"You used to be the oldest," Shawn said. "Are you really gonna pretend that you never messed with your little sister?"

"Never," Casey lied.

"Uh-huh," Shawn said. "Never got even the teeniest bit bossy. Made her do your chores or anything?"

At this, from two tables away Emily and Sheldon became interested in Casey's answer.

"Never," I said. It was true. Casey prided herself on the division of labor between herself and Lizzie. That was not to say that she never pulled rank whenever Lizzie challenged her. But Shawn did not need to know about that.

Shawn grabbed a breadstick of his own and put it up against the side of his nose, moving it forward so that in profile it looked like his nose was growing.

"Yeah, what-ever," Casey said.

"Do you ever miss being the oldest?" Shawn asked.

"I dunno," Casey said. "I think I like the idea of a big brother, but on the other hand, Derek's not exactly what you would call mature, so most of the time I feel like I'm babysitting him, too."

"I know the feeling," Sheldon muttered. His voice carried. Everybody cracked up. Shawn tried to look threatening, but didn't quite make it.

"Anyway," Shawn said, pointedly. "He's what, sixteen? How many mature sixteen year olds do you know?"

"Hey, my birthday isn't for six months and I'm way more mature than he is," Casey said, gesturing with a churro.

"I think maybe that's your problem," Shawn said.

"I couldn't disagree more," Casey said.

"Dude, you were studying on a Friday night," Shawn said.

"For a test I have _Saturday_ morning," Casey said.

"And you've been studying for it for how long?" Shawn asked.

"It's _important_," Casey said.

"Yeah," Shawn said. "I know it's important. But would _everybody_ be telling you to take a break if they thought you weren't ready?"

"Derek just wanted me to get lost," Casey joked. Actually, in his way, Derek had been trying to get her to relax, too. True, he did it by insulting her in ASL and when she got mad, saying "See? You're gonna pass!" It was kinda cute.

"Well, aren't you glad he was so eager to get rid of you?" Shawn asked. Casey laughed.

"I guess so," Casey said. "You know something? _You_ are really good at the big brother thing. I actually feel better."

Sheldon made a sound that combined a laugh and a scoff, probably to dispute his brother's awesomeness. He covered it with a cough and took a drink of his soda.

"Thanks," Shawn said. "Nice to know _someone_ appreciates me."

"I'm sure Shawna does," Casey said.

"Actually, I'm on Shawna's shit list right now," he said.

"Why?"

"I said something about her skeevy boyfriend, because he's, well, skeevy," Shawn said.

"Calls her fifteen times a day," Shawn said. "After _she_ caught _him_ cheating on her. I think she might be getting ready to dump him anyway. I was trying to give her a push, and she got pissed that I opened my mouth. _Told_ you I was bossy."

"Yep. Bossy." Casey said. She got up, leaned across the little table and hugged him. He smelled faintly of some soft, leathery cologne and the whole effect was really comforting.

"And what are the two of you looking at?" Casey asked Sheldon and Em when she sat back down. "Don't you have making out to do?"

Shawn laughed and took a bite out of his pickle. Casey didn't how how he could eat those. They were way too garlicky for her.

Part Two: Emily.

Emily, a talented eavesdropper, listened intently to what Shawn and Casey were talking about.

"You know something?" Casey said. "_You_ are really good at the big brother thing. I actually feel better."

Sheldon winced and stifled a groany laugh, which he turned into a cough real quick.

_Caseeeey_, Emily thought. When Casey hugged Shawn, he shot both of them a look of exasperation, then started munching on one of Smelly Nelly's too strong pickles, a sign that he gave up.

"Sorry," Emily mouthed behind Casey's back. Shawn wrinkled his nose and flapped a hand. No big deal. Shawn drove them home, the whole time trying to show that he wasn't in a bad mood, but he _so_ was. He came off a little forced, overhappy, singing along to the radio and doing corny, eighties dances at red lights. Sheldon did the same thing, when he was ticked off or felt dissed, minus the dancing, maybe.

He pulled in front of Casey's house in the middle of a song, and they both stayed and sang along until it was over. Sheldon leaned in and whispered "And you thought I was bad," into Emily's ear.

When the song ended, Shawn turned the radio down.

"Thanks for putting up with me tonight," Casey said.

"No charge," Shawn said.

"Though I will be needing my notes back," Casey said.

"I don't know if you can be trusted with them," Shawn said. "Who's to say that you're not gonna go in there and study half the night if I give these back to you?"

"Who's to say that I'm not going to try to spend half the night reconstructing the notes that you're currently sitting on if you don't give them back to me?" Casey asked.

"Touche," Shawn said, giving them back. "Don't work too hard."

Casey grinned. "I'll try." Shawn pecked her on the forehead, like any good big brother. Then, Casey opened the door and headed up her front walk.

"I am so sorry," Emily said. "It's all my fault and I'll make it up to you I swear—"

"It's cool," Shawn said. "I'll just go home. Make myself an espresso...read some Nietzsche—"

Sheldon cracked up. Emily made a mental note to google Nietzsche because while she'd heard the name, she had no idea what the dude was famous for.

"Where did I put that beret?" Shawn said. "No seriously. It's cool. You already told me that I didn't have a shot, and I've seen it for myself before tonight. I'm not taking it personally. Anyway, she's funny and likes Billy Ocean. She's okay to hang out with."

Part Three: Derek.

There was a little whoosh of cold air in the living room, signaling that the party was over. He didn't feel the door close, so it seemed like Casey was trying hard not to disturb them, but he and Kendra separated all the same. When he looked up, Casey was leaning with her back to the door, and she said something that might have been an apology, but the light was too low for him to be sure. He put the light on and Kendra said something to Casey.

"It was cool," Casey said. "We just went to Smelly Nelly's and hung out. I'll just go upstairs and you guys—"

Kendra put her hand on Derek's arm, waited for him to turn and said. "I should be getting home anyway." Derek pouted.

"It's late," Kendra said. So Derek reluctantly got up and walked her to the door. He grabbed her coat and helped her wiggle into it, made sure she was bundled up enough even though she'd be walking fifty feet to her Mom's car.

"See you soon, birthday boy," she said and gave him a good hard smacking kiss. Then he waited just inside the house to watch her until she was safely in the car. When he got to the kitchen to swipe a little leftover cake, Casey was pouring herself a glass of juice and singing something that he couldn't make out. He stared at her.

"What?" Casey said. "It's a classic." Then she kept singing it, and did a little dance around the kitchen with her glass, so he kept laughing at her. She stole a chocolate shaving off the top of his cake.

"Penalty for messing with me," she said.

"No you didn't," he said, which for some reason really made her laugh. He shook his head, still smiling a little, hoping he didn't look too confused until she was done.

"So you had a good time," Derek said.

"Yeah," Casey said. "I should thank you for begging Emily to...what was it? Get me out of here?"

"You really should," Derek agreed.

She shrugged, signed "Thank you, Derek."

He couldn't think of anything wiseass to say back to her, so he just signed "You're welcome." For some reason, he no longer trusted his voice. She had that effect on him; if it got any worse, he would need to go back to speech therapy. She was undoing a hell of a lot of work and she didn't even know it. He turned his attention back to the cake in front of him. She tipped his chin back up to look at her.

"I'm going to bed, before I start studying again," she said. He nodded.

"Go to bed," he signed.

"Wish me luck," she said.

"Good luck," he signed. She turned to the sink, washed her glass because she's Casey, and went upstairs. Derek put his head on the table for a minute after she left. The tiles were nice and cool. Then he finished his cake and went up to his own room.

Part Four: Abby.

Saturday morning, Abby showed up at the house to surprise Derek. Of course, she had to go wake him up. But first, she needed some coffee.

She was sorry to have missed Casey, who, according to George had run like hell not that long before Abby pulled up. Edwin and Marti were, as expected, in front of the TV, watching, as far as she could tell, some show about a prep school with a vortex in it. The boys were cute, at least. Especially the professor. Edwin cringed when she said as much.

"Never had a professor that cute," Nora said. "I would've paid attention in class more."

"Ew," Edwin said.

"So?" Nora asked. "What're you planning?"

"Thought we'd putter around, see if Derek maybe wanted a driving lesson," Abby said. As one of Derek's gifts the night before, he'd been promised George's old clunker, nicknamed the Prince, as soon as he got his license. That gave George enough time to get a new car.

"Wanna take the Prince?" George asked.

"Well..."

"We cleaned it up," George said, defensively.

"WE?" Edwin asked.

"I supervised," George said. Some things never changed.

"We'll see what Derek says," Abby said. She looked at her watch. "I should go start the process of moving him." She took a gulp of her coffee and headed upstairs. She passed Lizzie on the way down. She was dressed for Taekwondo and there was something Abby couldn't help doing.

She took out her phone. "Strike a pose," she said. Lizzie did. Abby snapped a picture.

"Any signs of life?" Abby asked.

"None," Lizzie said. "Unless you count snoring."

"Good to know I have my work cut out," Abby said. "Know what they should have? Bacon scented smelling salts."

"Aw, but that's mean. He'll wake up and there'll be no bacon," Lizzie said.

"True," Abby said. "Back to the drawing board. Congrats on your test, by the way."

"Thanks," Lizzie said, turning pink. "Edwin and Marti helped a lot. And Derek, obviously."

"Now," Abby said, rubbing her hands together. "Wish me luck. I'm going in."

"Luck," Lizzie said.

The room was a little bit cleaner than usual. Abby chalked that up to the new girlfriend, whom Abby had yet to meet. She heard good things, though. She stepped over the scattered DVD boxes and comic books (_Graphic novels, hello?_, Derek's voice piped up in her head) and stood over him for a second. She almost hated to wake him; he was so cute.

She gave him a nudge, and he groaned and turned over. She nudged again and he raised his head, saying something less than comprehensible, but she did catch Edwin's name in there somewhere. He turned over again, with his eyes partially open and finally saw her.

"Happy Birthday," she signed. "A little late, but what the heck?"

"Mom," he said, hugging her. She slipped him a little gift bag with a gift card (she predicted DVD shopping in her immediate future,) a chocolate covered rice krispie treat and driving gloves. He held these last up and looked at her, one eyebrow up.

"Thought we could break those in today," Abby signed. "Some driving lessons?"

A slow grin spread across his face like he couldn't quite believe it. "Not nice to toy with your firstborn," he signed.

"Hurry up and get ready before the coffee runs out," she signed. "I shall be watching cartoons."

She parked herself on the couch between Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti and watched _Bugs and Daffy_ with them. Daffy Duck was mid-rant when Derek came down. He went straight into the kitchen and drank some coffee with his sugar (George took it the same way) and said, "Well, are you ready? Daylight's wasting and I ain't getting any younger!" She pictured Daffy saying that and giggled.

She took him to the mall first and let him blow the gift card. She was going to let him take the wheel in the mall parking lot, but even he said it was too crowded.

"Where do you think would be a good place?" she asked.

"I dunno," he said. He looked at his watch. "There's that community center on Marten Street. There's not that much going on this early."

_To bust him or not to bust him,_ Abby wondered. She decided to bust him.

"That's where Casey's taking her test, isn't it?" she signed.

"Is it?" Derek signed.

Abby raised her eyebrow.

He gave her a look of indignation. "Yes," he signed, sticking out his lower lip.

_Well, if he doesn't want to be busted, _Abby thought. _He shouldn't be so obvious. _She took him over there to find the lot maybe a quarter full, so she did the ceremonial handing over of the keys in an empty spot near the back.

He was nervous, but handled himself pretty well, managing to make the turns when she signaled them and almost parallel parking. George had only taken him out a couple of times so far, so Abby was impressed. Derek was annoyed with himself for the clumsy parking job and did it twice more until he had it down.

Then he looked at his watch again.

"Give it a few more minutes," Abby signed. "Then we can go peek."

He gave her a "get out of my brain" look. She really was grateful that George kept her up to date on all the kids. But Derek didn't even know that his Dad could read him like a book and George wanted it to stay that way for a while, so Abby had to pretend that she was just psychic.

"Are you worried?" she signed, as they went inside.

He shook his head. "It's Casey," he signed, spelling out her name.

"Doesn't she have a name sign, yet?" Abby signed.

"Not yet," he signed.

"Don't take too long," Abby signed. "She'll think you don't like her."

It's possible that he hadn't thought of that. His eyebrows knit together for a second, and he was about to say something when someone left the classroom opposite them. It wasn't Casey.

"I'm not good at naming," he signed. "Or at least giving her a name that won't get me killed."

"Yeah," she signed. "That sounds like you."

A few more people trickled out, but still no Casey. After fifteen more minutes, Derek peeked through the open door to see Casey talking to the teacher. The teacher was bent over her desk, marking papers and at the sound of Derek coming in, looked up, curious.

"What're you doing here?" Casey asked.

Derek, uncharacteristically, was at a loss for words for a second. "We were in the neighborhood?" Then Casey spotted Abby and waved her in, hugging her.

"Well?" Abby asked.

"I'm waiting," Casey said, gesturing to her teacher, who was adding up her score for the written portion.

"A hundred percent for this part," she said. "That gives you..." she averaged two grades on a sheet of scrap. "An eighty nine overall."

Casey looked apologetic. "I made some stupid mistakes."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Weirdo," he said.

"So are you Casey's stepbrother?" the teacher signed. So Derek's fame preceded him.

He turned on the charm. "Yes, Derek Venturi," he signed.

"Lori Fergus," she signed. "Where do you go to school?"

"I go to Thompson with her," Derek signed. "This is my Mom." Abby waved.

"Abby Russo," Abby said.

"How bout you?" Derek signed.

"I'm a CODA" she signed. "I went to George Brown, in Toronto. Have you been tutoring her?"

"No," Derek signed. "My friend Sam's the one who helped her."

She looked suspicious. "I'm sure you were a big help too."

"I was a big something," he said, shocking Casey into laughter.

"You're definitely...something," Casey agreed. Derek stuck out his tongue.

Ms. Fergus exchanged some quick pleasantries with Abby about her cute son and excused herself, reminding Casey that her official grade would be emailed to her.

"Whew," Casey said when her teacher left. Derek rolled his eyes again.

"You're such a keener," he said.

"Does this mean I get to sleep in the house tonight?" Casey asked.

Abby smacked Derek's arm. "What did you tell her?"

"Who me?" Derek asked. "Okay, maybe I might have said something about moving her into the toolshed if she didn't do well."

"De-_rek_!" Abby said. Derek laughed and dodged her blows. No one would ever hear the end of the toolshed incident. Before a barbecue, when Derek was about ten, he and George were in the yard, looking for something in the shed and the door slammed shut behind Derek, locking him inside in total darkness.

This tiny voice had said, "Um, Dad?" from the suddenly closed shed.

"Crap," George had said.

Abby freaked. She'd had to be stopped from calling the fire department straightaway. It was dark in there, after all, and, worst of all, he couldn't hear them reassure him.

In the end, George had kept a cool head, knocking "shave and a haircut" on the wall of the shed so that Derek could feel it and knock back. Then George just took the hinges off the door. The whole thing had taken ten minutes and Derek was dirty and spidery, but otherwise unharmed and not particularly traumatized, but Abby had been sure she'd never get over it. Which is why it became such a family in-joke.

So on that day, six years later, she was able to laugh about it as she pretended to smack him around.

When she was done with the beating, she turned back to Casey. "Have you eaten, yet, hon?"

"No," Casey said. "I was kinda nervous."

"Care to join us for some pizza?" Abby asked. Derek's eyes lit up, the way they always did at the mention of pizza.

"Oh, God, yes," Casey said. She gathered up her stuff and they headed out. Abby hung back a few steps and watched the two of them walk ahead. It was funny. Derek was weirdly undemonstrative with Casey. It was true that he often had to be nagged and forced into hugging people, but that was more of a joke than anything. It was his way of saying that he wasn't as sappy as the rest of the family. Even though he was exactly as sappy as they were; he was just a better liar. He was more than capable of regular affection with everyone else. But with Casey, he was tentative, and she was tentative with him.

"Darn," he signed. "I was counting on the money from renting out your room."

"Get used to being broke," Casey said. She was in front of him, walking backward. That never ended well. But he stopped her before anything could happen, putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her to the car.

George said that usually their physical contact was limited to shoving and hair pulling, usually, but not always, the playful kind. This was almost a hug.

Casey was a little thrown by it too. When Abby tried to engage her in conversation at the restaurant, it took the girl a few minutes to get past monosyllables. She was better by the time the pizza came, though. Abby and Casey had a pretty good time talking the whole time, Abby watched Derek watch Casey. If it had been any other kid, the fact that his eyes followed her as much as they did would be significant, but Derek, by necessity, did that with everybody. It was hard for Abby to put her finger on why this was different, but it was.

Casey excused herself for a minute. Abby looked across the table at Derek.

"She's a beautiful girl," Abby signed.

Derek shrugged.

_At least he didn't say ew_, Abby thought.

"It's good to see you getting along better," she signed.

"Who?" Derek signed. "Us?"

"You," Abby signed, grinning. Derek smirked and changed the subject to the merits of pepperoni versus sausage. She let him, for the moment.

TBC

A/N: CODA=Child of Deaf Adult.

A/N 2: I know you're all wondering what's gotten into me, posting so soon after so long away. It's a Derekus miracle. I don't understand it either, but it makes me happy.


	30. Chapter 30

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty.

Part One: Derek.

He got stuck putting up the Christmas lights. He'd somehow known that it was going to happen, since he'd put them up the year before while his Dad was getting stitched up in the emergency room. This year, he'd known it was about that time when Edwin had run up to get him. He was all out of breath.

"Dad..." he said. "Garage...ladder."

Derek nodded.

"Dad!" Derek said when he got outside. "Off the ladder!" Dad waved him off and climbed a little higher with the ball of tangled lights. The ladder wiggled a little. Derek bit his lip and moved toward it. It wiggled again before anyone could steady it and Dad decided he'd had enough and climbed down. Derek and Edwin heaved a sigh of relief.

"Shut it, both of you" Dad said. He looked at the still undecorated house. "Guess we can just make do with a wreath."

Derek rolled his eyes and took the lights from his Dad. They really were still tangled up. Which meant that he'd had no intention of really putting up the lights himself.

_I should have seen that coming_, Derek thought.

"Twenty bucks," Dad signed.

"Forty," Derek signed.

"Thirty," Dad signed.

"Thirty-five," Derek signed.

"Ten," Dad signed.

"Thirty it is," Derek signed. He texted Ralph to come help.

The whole thing took less than half an hour, but it felt like much longer both due to the cold and to Casey, who stood on the porch, not far from the ladder, fretting over the both of them.

"Okay, Grandma," Derek said, when he came down. "We're done. Nobody's dead. No brains on the sidewalk."

"Don't make fun of me," she said, whacking him.

"Why?" he asked. "It's so much fun."

"Be nice to Casey," Ralph said.

"Lump of coal for Derek," Casey said. She pretended to write it down on a little pad she had in her pocket. She always had stuff to write with, in case the idea for the great Canadian novel came to her while she was on line at the video store. "Hug for Ralph."

She reached over and gave Ralph a one-armed hug that he turned into a full-on squeeze, complete with his hand inching down her back until she stopped him. Normally, Derek would say that he couldn't fault a guy for trying, but this was proof of a death wish.

Casey shoved him and pretended to be offended, but giggled because you can't get mad at Ralph. Unless you were Derek.

"What the hell was that?" he signed when Casey went inside.

"When a cute girl hugs, I hug back," Ralph signed.

"She is not cute," Derek signed. "She's Casey."

Ralph looked around for a second.

"You don't even fool me with that," Ralph signed.

Part Two: Casey.

First Christmas miracle: The news that Aunt Fiona was _not _coming over for Christmas and that they _weren't _going over to see her. That meant a Vicky-free holiday. Best Christmas ever.

"Yeee-aah!" Casey yelled, grabbing the first available person and hugging. Edwin was a little shell-shocked by that. She'd lifted him a couple inches off the floor in her excitement.

"Me next!" Marti said, so Casey picked her up and swung her around a little, singing "No Icky Vicky for Christmas. No Icky Vicky for Christmas!"

"What is the matter with you?" Derek asked when he came into the kitchen.

"No Vicky for Christmas!" Casey said. "For the first time in...my entire life!"

"Okaay," Derek said. "More moo-shu for me."

"Now if we could just get rid of _you_, it would be perfect," Casey said.

"No such luck," Derek said.

"Smerek stays," Marti said between them. She reached out for Derek to take hold of her. He took her off Casey's hands.

"Well," Casey said, stretching her arms dramatically to show Marti just how heavy she was. "I _guess_ I can live with that."

"I'm touched," Derek said. But he was smiling. "Even if I don't get to rent out your room after all."

"Sme-rek!" Marti said. Somehow Marti had gotten the idea that, in the week or so before Christmas, Santa was listening harder than usual, which meant that everyone had to be nice, or else. George, was running with this belief, of course, saying "Are you listening Santa?" every time someone gave him trouble.

If someone argued over whose turn it was to do the dishes?

George said, "Are you listening Santa?"

If Casey and Derek fought over the remote?

"Are you listening Santa?"

The threat even seemed to work on Derek and Casey.

"We're kidding, Marti," Casey said, finally.

"_I_ wasn't," Derek said.

"Are you listening, Santa?" Casey signed.

Derek stuck his tongue out. "What's he gonna do, take my lump of coal away?" he asked, his arms still full of Marti.

"Maybe," Casey said.

Shopping for him for Christmas was even harder than shopping for his birthday. She was encouraged that he liked that t-shirt, had even worn it already, but that just meant she'd gotten lucky. In the end, she just grabbed something and hoped for the best. This time, Lizzie hid it so that she couldn't return it. That left Casey to help her Mom figure out the menu, one of Casey's favorite things about Christmas. They printed out recipes from several websites and did the shopping over several days.

George was excited. "This is amazing," he kept saying whenever they came in with a batch of stuff.

"Why?" Mom asked. "What'd you do last year?"

"Ordered Chinese," he said.

"Oh, Georgie, no!" Mom said.

"What?" George said. "It was from the Golden Dragon. It was great."

On Christmas eve George dragged Casey and Derek along on last-minute errands. He pulled into a strip mall and sent the two of them into an Italian deli while he picked up flowers and dry cleaning.

There was also a jewelry store in that little strip, and, from the window of the deli, both kids saw George go into said jewelry store.

"Dry cleaning," Derek signed, nodding toward the window.

"Awww," Casey said. Derek rolled his eyes. He took a number and watched the action at the counter carefully.

Casey poked him after a minute. "Do you know what any of this stuff is?" She showed him the list George had given her. He wanted them to pick up things with names like sopressata, ricotta salada, and bocconcini. The worst part was that the guy behind the deli counter reminded her of her gym teacher: loud, brusque and very willing to make fun of people who made mistakes. The guy called their number and it came up on the little screen behind him, sending Casey into panic mode.

Derek took the list out of her hand and gave it to the guy. Then he pointed to his ear, indicating that he was deaf. When the guy wanted Derek to choose between two things, he just held them up for Derek to point to. He even gave Derek a slice or two of stuff to sample, some of which he actually gave to Casey. The order was filled in a few minutes, no fuss, no muss.

"Was that so hard?" Derek asked as they left the place and went to wait by the car.

"I can't believe you did that," Casey said.

"Um, Case?" he began. "Did it occur to you that _you_ could have just handed the list to the guy? And before you ask, the only reason I didn't talk to him was so that _he_ wouldn't try to talk to _me_. I mean that dude was all mustache." He pronounced mustache with a hard /ch/ sound.

"And he talked really fast, too," Casey admitted. "But I can't believe you got _samples_ out of him."

"Please," Derek said. "He would've made a free _sandwich_ for you if you'd unzipped your coat. Or, you know, smiled at him or something."

She was about to yell but didn't. "Was that a compliment?"

"No," Derek said. "Ew."

"Well," Casey said, putting her shopping bag on the roof of the car and taking out her note pad. "Christmas. Miracle. Number. Two," she said as she wrote.

"Dork," Derek said. Then, after a pause. "What was number one?"

Casey reminded him about the distinct lack of Vicky in their house.

"Oh yeah," he said.

George came back to the car after a minute, holding a small package.

"You guys are done already?" he asked. "I thought you'd be longer."

"Dry cleaning?" Derek asked, looking pointedly at the tiny bag in George's hand.

"Ten dollars each if you keep your mouths shut," George said.

"Fifteen," Derek said.

"Five," George said.

"Let's see," Derek said. "Nora number is..."

"Fifteen it is," George said, reaching into his wallet and handing the money over. "Did you get everything?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "It was...surprisingly easy."

Derek smirked at her.

They made shrimp with pasta for Christmas Eve dinner. Neither Casey nor her Mom were good with shrimp, but Mom was determined to get it right eventually. Edwin helped, measuring and chopping and running around like mini-Emeril (and dipping bits of bread into the sauce when he thought no one was looking).

The shrimp came out perfect. Casey decided to call that Christmas Miracle Number Three. At the table, she took a bite out of it and sighed in relief.

"Hey," Derek said. Casey looked up and he held up three fingers, reading her mind. He raised his eyebrows in a question and she nodded.

Part Three: Lizzie.

Lizzie woke up early Christmas morning. She almost turned over and went back to sleep when she remembered what day it was. But she was almost twelve, and she needed to be cool about things. There would be no sneaking downstairs to peek at the tree for her. She took out a book she'd been reading and got about two pages in before Marti burst through her door.

"A book?" she whispered. "What're you doing still in bed...with a _book_?" It was such a Derek thing to say that Lizzie giggled.

"It's not even Harry Potter," Marti said, shaking her head.

Edwin stood behind Marti, looking not exactly awake.

"What?" Lizzie said. "I was trying to be patient."

"_Why_?" Marti said, pulling her by the elbow. "Get with the program!"

Casey met them at the end of the hall, by the stairs.

"And what were you guys planning to do?" she whispered, her arms crossed.

"Plan?" Edwin whispered. "Is this something you plan? I take it back. _You'd_ plan it."

"Are you listening, Santa?" Casey whispered, breaking Lizzie up.

"No making Santa mad," Marti whispered, already thinking of next year.

"Santa's on a sugar high," Edwin assured her. "Santa's cool for now."

"So, you guys thought you'd sneak downstairs and peek at this year's haul?" Casey whispered.

"Duh," Marti whispered.

Casey smiled, shaking her head. "Guys? Do you smell anything?"

"Wasn't me," Edwin said.

"I meant _coffee_," Casey said. "And bacon."

_Come to think of it_, Lizzie thought. She knew what that meant.

"So Mom and George are up?" Lizzie asked.

Casey nodded.

"Kinda takes the fun out of sneaking," Edwin said.

"Let's go get Smerek," Marti said.

Almost on cue, Derek's door opened. It was the bacon. It had to be. He shuffled out, went directly to the bathroom. After he came out, Marti got him around the waist.

"Hey, Smarti," he said, crouching down and picking her up. "You ready?"

Marti nodded.

Edwin slung his arm around Lizzie and they went down together. Casey brought up the rear.

George was worse than Marti, or better, depending on how you looked at it.

"Jeez," he said. "What took you kids so long? I was about to go up there and hold mirrors up to your noses."

"So," Mom piped up. "Breakfast first or presents?"

Derek looked really torn. Now that they were downstairs and could _see_ the bacon as well as smell it, so was Edwin. Casey's stomach growled and they all took that as the deciding vote. They ate faster than anyone in the world has ever eaten. They could have won contests that morning. Then they stuck dishes in the sink for later.

"What do we do now?" Mom asked.

"Noraaaa!" Marti said, dancing from foot to foot.

"Let's go," George said.

Marti took the job of handing presents out. This was a job she took seriously, even setting aside a couple of her own presents until she was sure everyone had a present to open.

"Okay," she said. "Now!"

Then the family tried to beat the ripping record. All except for Casey, that was. She was trying to be neat about it.

Lizzie was in an interesting position. She knew what a lot of the presents were going to be before they opened them. She didn't know all of them and she didn't know what anyone had gotten her, but she knew what Casey got Derek. She knew what Mom got George. She knew what Mom and George got Edwin, and Marti. She knew what Marti made for her parents and for Edwin. The secrets were killing her.

She was especially dying to see Edwin's face when he opened the really big box from Mom and George. Marti couldn't lift it, so she pushed it over to Edwin.

"This is for me?" Edwin asked. "I thought it was a mini fridge. Unless you got me a mini fridge?"

"Just open it, Ed," George said.

It took him a minute to get through the paper and poke the packing tape with a pencil. Then it was another minute for him to reach through the packing peanuts until he found something solid.

"He's gonna fall in," Derek said.

But then Edwin pulled out a miniature version of himself. It was a ventriloquist's dummy.

"No way," Edwin said. Casey laughed and pulled the styrofoam out of his hair. Then there was a lot of hugging.

Then Casey opened a little box from Derek. This was one of the few that Lizzie didn't know anything about so she watched closely, her own hands pausing in mid-rip. There was an intake of breath and everyone tensed for the explosion of a gag gift gone wrong, but then Lizzie saw that it was just a bottle of the same perfume that Casey always used. Lizzie knew that Casey was down to her last bottle and that there was less than two inches of it left.

"Ma Griffe? Are you kidding me?" Casey asked.

Mom tapped Derek. "Where did you find that?" she asked.

"What?" Derek asked. "No good?"

"I've been looking for it for six months," Mom said. "Where'd you go?"

"It's impossible to find!" Casey said.

"The mall?" Derek said. He named the little hole-in-the-wall discount perfume place that no one went to.

He didn't get out of the way fast enough to avoid the hug. He did his best to fight her off, but he blushed purple.

"Okay, enough of that," Derek said, finally wiggling away.

"George, where's the camera?" Mom said. "You're supposed to have it ready for stuff like this."

"Who knew history would be made?" George said. Derek missed this as he was opening something that turned out to be camera equipment from George.

"Marti!" Casey whisper-screamed. "Grab the gold one!"

"This?" Marti asked, holding it up.

Casey gave her thumbs up. It was her gift to Derek. Marti put it in his lap before he knew what was happening.

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Open it," Casey signed. "NOW!"

"It's not going to explode is it?" Derek asked. "Would you guys tell me if it was ticking?"

Lizzie moved to take it and open it herself, and that was just the hint that he needed to get a move on. It was a small art supply kit in a box with colored pencils and pastels and a how-to book. He stared at it blankly just long enough for Casey to say "I still have the gift receipt somewhere," before Derek finally looked up.

The look on his face was too cute. Then flash went off as George finally got the camera going.

"History," George said, when everyone looked at him.

"Do you hate it?" Casey asked him.

Derek shook his head. He looked at her seriously. "Thank you, C." he signed.

"You hate it," Casey said. "It's okay. I have the gift receipt and you can get store credit..."

Derek shook his head. "Be right back," he signed. He went to the kitchen.

Everything was at a standstill. Casey got up and followed him after a minute. Lizzie and Edwin looked at each other. Then the door closed.

"Georgie?" Mom asked.

So nobody knew what to do. But they weren't in there too long. And Casey came out all smiles. Derek still looked the same. Except that he could talk now.

"What?" he asked.

_I guess that means they weren't making out in there,_ Lizzie thought.

"So I guess I have a name sign now," Casey said. Then she demonstrated the Princess C. sign that Derek had been using behind her back for months.

"Couldn't change it," Derek said.

"She _was_ the only one who didn't have a name sign," Mom said.

"Yeah," Derek said. "I'm not good at that stuff."

"What do you mean you couldn't _change_ it?" Casey asked.

"Nothing," Derek said.

"De-_rek_!" she said. But she was still in too good a mood to get mad.

"Christmas Miracle Number Four," Derek said, pretending to write in an invisible notepad, making Casey laugh. "Casey has not murdered me."

"Yet," Casey said.

TBC

A/N: Merry Derekus, y'all. :-D Again.


	31. Chapter 31

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-One.

Part One: Derek

Derek hightailed it out of the living room and into the kitchen, not caring that it looked weird. He needed some air.

He stuck his head into the fridge, strictly for something to do with himself, but then he saw the orange juice and wanted it. At the same time, someone came into the kitchen. He was barefoot so he felt it through the floorboards. He turned around to see Casey, the person he most and least wanted to see standing there.

Once again, he didn't trust his voice. Very few people told him when it did weird things. Casey wouldn't say anything, but he'd probably see it on her face and then things would be really awkward. She'd pretend like it was no big deal, but she was a terrible liar. The problem was that she seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so to buy himself a minute or two, he took a mega swig of the juice. Then he waggled the carton at Casey to see if she wanted any. She shook her head, but didn't make the face that he expected her to.

_Go on,_ he thought, _yell at me. You know you want to. I'm a pig and you can't believe that you're forced to live with me and my backwash._

His hand felt a little shaky and he steadied it by putting the other arm across his chest. He also tried to avoid eye contact, but she wouldn't let him. She waved her hand in front of his face.

"What's going on?" she signed.

He put the carton down on the counter. "Nothing," he signed. "Juice." He most certainly wasn't trying to get the hell away from her or anything like that.

She didn't believe him in the slightest, but he couldn't think of a better lie, so he kept quiet. The truth was that he wasn't that sure what his problem was. He just felt the need to bail for a second. Before he did something stupid.

Casey didn't show signs of leaving anytime soon. Derek thought of five or six places that he could have gone where Casey wouldn't have bothered him. Why didn't he just excuse himself and run up to the bathroom for example? That would have been the smart thing to do. But what did he do? He went to the kitchen so that she could follow him and ask questions.

She tapped him and he looked up. She tried to sign something, but after some false starts she opened her mouth and blurted: "God! Just say something already!"

This, he could work with. "Something," he said.

She startled, making him wonder if he said that too loud.

"What?" she asked before he could say anything else.

"Just...doing what you told me?" Derek said. "You said to say something, so—"

She rubbed her forehead. "Just tell me what's going on."

He shook his head, and then she managed to interrupt him mid shrug. She stepped right up in his face and wagged a finger at him.

"Don't even try to tell me there's nothing 'cause you're acting all weird!"

"I'm acting all weird?" Derek asked. "And you're...actually this is normal for you—" Having her this close made him more uncomfortable than he had words to describe. _Not cool,_ he thought. _At all. No touchy. _

She put her hand on his arm and left it there. He looked down at it like he'd never seen a hand before. Then he looked up at her in disbelief. It never failed to intimidate other touchy feeley people. It made Sheldon back away like he expected Derek to bite. But Casey—and this both pissed him off and terrified him—wasn't afraid of him.

_Talk_, Derek thought. _Say something. You can do it. Just don't admit to anything and you'll be okay._

"Okay," he said, sidestepping her. "The art stuff. How did you know that—"

"Was it a secret?" Casey asked. She said something about his notebooks, which, admittedly, were pretty covered with doodles. "And then there's this..." She pointed at the chalkboard near the phone where he'd drawn a Great Dane standing on its hind paws and carrying a pizza box.

Still, he hadn't told anyone that he was at all interested in really learning to draw. He had been thinking of taking art as an elective next year, but would have dropped dead before mentioning it to Casey. And yet, she read him anyway.

That was so not good, because if she could read _that_, then...

Derek looked down at the floor, hoping for inspiration. In front of him were Casey's legs in those dorky pink pajamas and below them, her feet in flip-flops. Her toenails were painted silver. She put her hand under his chin to guide his face up to hers. If this were one of those movies she liked, he would have made a move to kiss her then, and he could picture himself doing it. The trouble was, he could also picture her hauling off and breaking his nose afterward. That or twisting his head all the way around then letting it spin back into place.

He needed to cool it with the _Scrubs_ reruns.

"—wanted to surprise you," Casey said. "But in a good way."

He nodded. She was still a little too close to him so he moved back a couple of inches so that he could sign without hitting her.

"Guess I have to give you your name sign, then," he signed. He did his best to look offhand about this, but his hands still shook a little whenever they weren't moving.

"Really?" Casey said. "Oh my God." She fanned her face with one hand.

He rolled his eyes. "It's not much," he signed. "Sam wouldn't help. Ed either."

She was still fanning her face and added a little bounce to the proceedings.

"Don't hit me," he said.

"What is it?!"

He showed her the Princess sign with a C in place of the P. For a good thirty seconds, it looked likely that she could easily laugh or hit him with a frying pan.

He braced for the hit, but she laughed. "Jerk," she signed. And her eyes welled up.

"Stop it," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's a name sign. You didn't just win Canadian Idol."

"I can't help it," Casey said. "It's like I'm an actual member of the family now."

_Greeeaat,_ Derek thought. _Who ordered the depression with the extra guilt on the side? That would be me. Well, it's not like everybody and their brother didn't warn me that this would happen if I took this long. _

"See, this is why it took me so long," Derek said. "I knew you were gonna be weird."

She said something that might have been a denial of her weirdness.

"I wasn't trying to insult you by taking this long," Derek said, serious for a second. "If I was gonna insult you, I got much better material than that." He grinned at her, hoping to lighten things up again.

"Be serious."

"Ew," he said. "Nooo." He shook his head like he couldn't believe what a sap she could be. "And aren't we forgetting something?"

Casey thought for a second. "Thank you?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna go bury Edwin in packing peanuts."

He turned to go but she got in his way, her arms out for another hug.

"You're pushing it, McDonald," he said, but she continued to block every move he made. She stuck her lower lip out, pretending that she was going to cry again. He narrowed his eyes.

"C'mon," she said. "It's Christmas."

"Humbug," Derek said. She must never know how much he really wanted to get his hands on her. With the utmost reluctance, he stepped into the hug, giving her a decent squeeze at the last second. As she pulled away, she gave him a little peck, which was supposed to be on the cheek, but she got the corner of his mouth, too. His heart sped up and started pounding so much that when she pulled back, he could _see_ it beating in his chest. There's no way that she missed it.

He was dead meat.

Part Two: Casey.

Styrofoam sticks to everything. You take one Edwin, add a Derek and some static electricity and you end up picking packing peanuts off of your pajama pants and out of your hair, out of the Christmas tree and off of the couch and rug for freaking ever. Mom and George thought it was funny, but Casey, even after she'd cleaned the bulk of the post present mess up had spent the day compulsively picking up little bits of white stuff. It got everywhere.

Not that it wasn't a completely welcome distraction. She would have done almost anything to avoid thinking about how she'd made a bigger than usual ass of herself in the kitchen with Derek. The cleaning thing was Normal Casey behavior. The hugging thing was, too, actually. She hugged people. Most of her friends got the hug and peck treatment. Closeness was a good thing. But just the idea that she insisted on a hug from _Derek_ and then kissed him almost made her brain shut down.

Officially, Casey had meant to kiss him on the cheek. She'd wanted to give him a big, smacking Auntie kiss and watch him scrub at his face in disgust. The only problem was that she'd had a moment to wonder what would happen if she grabbed him and slipped him the tongue, not that she would ever have _done_ it. But she'd still managed to freak him out. His eyes bugged and those blond eyelashes that usually distracted the hell out of her really started to fill the world.

Those huge eyes looked back at her all confused and she'd had to play it all off, giving him a little "gotcha" face and walking away like she'd meant to do what she did. She plastered a fake smile on her face and told everyone about the name sign, which most of the family seemed to know about already. Because he probably used it behind her back. She put up the teeniest little token protest because that's was what Normal! Casey did, then Derek went into his Normal! Derek behavior and Casey did her best to forget the whole thing.

Until after dinner.

Lizzie knocked on Casey's open door. She looked so serious that Casey couldn't do anything but pat the bed next to her.

"What's going on?" Casey asked.

"I kinda wanted to ask _you_ that," Lizzie said.

"Huh?"

"You and Derek," Lizzie said. "Before, when you guys went into the kitchen..."

_Never happened_, Casey thought. _Does not exist. It is really bad manners to bring up something that I am fully planning to repress._

"What?" Casey asked. "I went in there to find out what his deal was, but I didn't really get anywhere. I mean, besides the name sign, which is a huge deal, and that reminds me, I gotta call Emily. She just won't believe it. But do you think it's still too early to call her? She still might be doing family stuff and I don't wanna be rude or anything—"

"You're babbling," Lizzie said.

"I do _not_ babble," Casey said. _  
_

"You do too," Lizzie said. "Especially when you're nervous. So why're you nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," Casey lied. "What possible reason would I have to be nervous?"

Lizzie shook her head and looked Casey in the eye, giving her the "I'm so disappointed in you" look. Lizzie, even at her age, was the master of that look. One day, Lizzie's children would really be in for it.

"You know," Lizzie said. "I can keep a secret."

"I know," Casey said. "And when I have a secret, I'll let you know."

Lizzie shook her head again. "Do you think you're fooling anyone with that?"

"Lizzie."

"You can't lie to save your life," Lizzie said. She fiddled with the feather boa that Casey'd hung on the back of her door. "So...did you kiss?"

Casey almost swallowed her own tongue. _So this is what a panic attack feels like,_ she thought.

"What?"

"You two spend a lot of time alone in the kitchen," Lizzie said, like it was only the most logical thing in the world. "Especially today."

"How do you go from 'spending a lot of time in the kitchen' to making out? " Casey asked. "There are so many things wrong with that, starting with the fact that we barely tolerate each other."

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "That's why you drove me crazy for a week with his Christmas present. You were all worried that he wouldn't like it even though you knew darn well he was gonna lose his mind because you, like, did _research_. You spend more time on him than Kendra does, I think."

_Crap oh crap oh crap,_ Casey thought.

"Lizzie," Casey said, trying to sound authoritative and falling on her face. "All that happened in there was he gave me the name sign, which _I_ thought was pretty big, even though you guys all seemed to know about it and never told me. You don't see me bugging anyone about that, incidentally. And after that, I almost cried, and he made fun of me for almost crying and that was it."

"So he didn't _do_ anything?" Lizzie asked.

"He drank OJ from the carton, " Casey said. "I mean, where are you getting this from?"

"You two disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door. Then, you came out all smiley but avoided each other the whole rest of the day. So I figured you at least got a hug out of him and now you're all embarrassed," Lizzie said. This was the point where _Lizzie_ should have been embarrassed for letting her imagination run away with her, but she was unflappable.

"I dunno if you noticed, but Derek's not the most affectionate guy. He especially doesn't do affection when it comes to _me_," Casey said. "And anyway, are you telling me that you guys weren't listening at the door?"

"Not with Mom and George right there," Lizzie said, without even a hint of remorse. "And you guys were too quiet anyway."

"I was trying to be sarcastic," Casey said.

Lizzie shrugged.

"You know, Liz, I think that you've been spending too much time with Edwin," Casey said. "He's a bad influence."

"Yep," Lizzie said. "That's Edwin. He's a real menace to society."

"You never used to be like this," Casey said.

"And _you_ used to tell me stuff," Lizzie said.

"There's nothing to tell," Casey lied. _Actually,_ she amended to herself, _I think this counts as a half-truth. There is nothing to tell. This is not something you talk about. Ever._ And she felt even worse about it, since she really did tell Lizzie everything once upon a time. She used to pride herself on their relationship, but that didn't mean that she could talk about her pathetic and thoroughly unrequited crush on her stepbrother and her continued attempts to impress him. She felt like she was starting to get a little grudging affection from him and she couldn't hope for much more. Actually, after that little personal space invasion she'd pulled that morning, she'd be lucky if there were no restraining orders in her future.

"Okay," Lizzie said. "If you say so." She turned to leave, and Casey felt really ashamed of herself.

"I might have made him hug me," Casey said. No matter what guilt Lizzie summoned, she didn't need to know about the other thing.

"Really?" Lizzie said, hopping back onto the bed.

"I annoyed him into it," Casey said. "And he made sure I knew how unhappy he was with it."

"I'll bet," Lizzie said.

"You do remember what you said about keeping a secret, right?" Casey asked. "Derek would fill this entire room with pudding if he found out I told."

"He won't find out," Lizzie said.

"Okay," Casey said. "As long as he doesn't."

Part Three: Edwin.

Lizzie came downstairs after her reconnaissance mission and made Edwin watch the rest of _We're No Angels_ (Nora had a thing for Humphrey Bogart) with the 'rents before she let them meet in the games closet.

"Well?" Edwin asked.

"He hugged her," Lizzie said.

"That's _it_?"

"That's a lot," Lizzie said. "And if you knew what it took for me to get that out of her, you wouldn't say things like "that's it."

"Sorry, Liz," Edwin said. "You're the queen."

"Yes I am," Lizzie said.

"How'd you do it?" Edwin asked.

"I asked her if they were kissing in there," Lizzie said.

"Are you _crazy_?" Edwin asked, in total awe. He never would have had the nerve to do that. "And that worked?"

"Not right away," Lizzie said. "But you should've seen her face." They both giggled.

"So what now?"

"I dunno," Lizzie said. "They're sooo slow!"

"And Derek's with _Kendra_," Edwin said.

"Kendra's okay," Lizzie defended.

"I know," Edwin said, glumly. "She is." None of this was Kendra's fault. Edwin just couldn't get rid of the image of Derek's face that morning when he opened his present from Casey and Lizzie told him what Casey'd gone through to pick it out.

They both got quiet then. Kendra probably wasn't going anywhere anytime soon and they really did like her too much to mess with her, so they were stuck for the time being.

Part Four: Emily.

Casey, apparently, was a New Year's Resolution sort of a girl. Emily was not.

"So you're not gonna make a list with me?" Casey asked. She was lying across Emily's bed, Neville Furbottom next to her. Emily hoped that it was true what they said about cats being a calming influence on the high strung. He stretched out as far as he could as Casey stroked him.

"Um," Emily said. "I'm sure your list will be enough for both of us."

"Huh?"

"I'm kidding," Emily said. "I just know that I'm probably not keeping any resolutions I make, so it's best not to make any."

"But," Casey said. "Isn't there something new that you want to try this year?"

"Probably," Emily said. She could think of one or two things, but she'd have to run them by Sheldon and they were none of Casey's business. "I'm not a big planner. But why don't you tell me about yours?" _Since I know you're dying to_, Emily thought.

"Well, okay," Casey said. "The main thing—don't laugh—is that I wanna spend a little less time inside my own head this year."

_Good luck with that,_ Emily thought, biting her lip. _But,_ she thought, _knowing Casey, she'll give it a try._

"That's good," Emily said. "I'm glad."

"I know you are," Casey said, rolling her eyes. "I also want to stop worrying so much about...everything. Get into the next dance recital, do a play, any play. Get a boyfriend. Plan and carry out the ultimate practical joke on Derek."

"Wait," Emily said. "What?"

"What?" Casey asked. "Practical joke? I know it's immature, but I just wanna do it once. You know for the experience."

"No," Emily said, grinning. "The one before that."

"Ooh," Casey teased. "Which one was that? It wasn't the one about the _boyfriend_, was it?"

"Might've been," Emily said. "Got anyone in mind?" _You better not say Shawn after all the crazy you sprinkled on him,_ Emily thought. _Imagine if she said Derek?_

"I don't know," Casey said. "I have to see who's out there, I guess. I mean, I don't ask for much. He just has to be warm, kindhearted..."

"Neville's already been fixed," Emily joked.

"Ew," Casey said, rubbing him under the chin. "The slobber would be a total turn off. I mean, doesn't he know that he's not a dog? And the hairy back doesn't help his case either. No it doesn't, you cute little fuzzball. Not even a little."

"Know what?" Emily said, disturbed by Casey using baby-talk. "You should definitely try that on the next guy you hook up with."

"Shut up," Casey said. "With my luck, I'll run into a guy who _wants_ baby talk."

"I don't know any," Emily said. "Do you?"

"I hope not," Casey said.

"Okay, in keeping with at least two of your resolutions," Emily said, getting an idea. "Think you wanna change your mind about Linda's party tomorrow night?"

Casey groaned and buried her face in Neville's side. He closed his eyes and leaned into her. When she raised her head, he gave her a 'who said you could move?' look.

"A New Year's Eve party?" Casey said. "Everybody paired off except me? That sound like fun to you?"

"It'll be better than staying home with the 'rents in front of the TV," Emily said. "Watching the kiddies try to prove who can stay up the latest?" Emily had a good amount of experience with this, having babysat Dimi the year before when her parents went out.

"Marti'd beat everybody," Casey said.

"Probably," Emily said. "So are you gonna come? Wear that black top with the lace?"

She knew Casey was looking for an excuse to wear that top. She was weakening.

"Do a little dancing?" Emily continued. "Hang out. No pressure?"

"Lots of pressure," Casey said.

"Nope," Emily said. "Linda said she wasn't inviting that many people."

"Famous last words," Casey said.

"Nah," Emily said. "Her brother Julio's home from university. Have you ever seen him? He's like a bouncer."

"Is he cute?"

"That's the spirit," Emily said. "And yes."

So the next night, Emily got ready a little early and crossed the lawn to Casey's. In the past, Emily has wrestled enough turtlenecks away from her friend to know that she sometimes could not be trusted to dress herself. She might actually show up in a nun's habit someday if left to her own devices. She made some quick small talk with the parents and ran upstairs. On her way to Casey's room she saw Lizzie trying to teach Edwin how to fight and Derek messing with his hair in the bathroom mirror. She shook her head and knocked on Casey's door.

"Decent?"

"Usually," Casey said. When Casey let her in, she was relieved to see that she had on the black top and her good dark jeans. Marti was going through Casey's makeup and not making too much of a mess though she had blue eyeshadow across one eyebrow.

"You should wear this," Marti said, handing Casey a little pot of silver eyeshadow.

"But you already said I should wear the sparkly lip gloss," Casey said.

"Yeah," Marti said, not seeing her point.

Casey threw Emily a 'save me' look.

"How 'bout you let me do her face and you get final approval, 'kay Marti?" Emily asked.

"Okay," Marti said. Marti trusted her.

Casey tucked a towel into her top, as if Emily had _ever_ spilled anything. Emily could put on eyeliner in a moving car, for heaven's sake.

She turned Casey away from her mirror and came up with a decent compromise between Casey and Marti's tastes. Marti was fascinated, of course, and Emily couldn't resist throwing in a couple of painterly moves like holding her thumb at a distance (she had no idea why artists did that, but what the heck) and making a frame with both hands.

"Quit it," Casey said as Marti giggled. "I am not the Mona Lisa"

"No, you have better eyebrows," Emily said. "We're actually going for more of a Kandinsky thing."

"What?!"

"I'm kidding," Emily said. "Lighten up. Now blot."

Then, before Casey could stop her, she tested her hair for stiffness and let it out of the clip, running her hands through it to loosen it up.

"Emilyyyy!"

"Your hair was on too tight," Emily said. "This looks great, trust me." Marti nodded, but the final confirmation came when they passed Lizzie and Edwin in the hall and Lizzie said that she was glad Casey took her hair down.

"Really?" Casey said, looking down at it nervously. "It was Em's idea."

"Knew there was a reason we kept you around," Edwin joked. Emily glared. "Kidding."

"Thought so," Emily said, grinning and high-fiving Lizzie.

When they got downstairs, Derek was oddly quiet, and he barely looked at Casey, at least after the first sneaky glance she saw him take. Casey ran upstairs to switch necklaces and Emily turned to him.

"What's the matter?" she signed.

"Nothing," he signed.

"You guys have a fight?"

"No," Derek signed, shrugging like he didn't know what she meant. He smiled and tugged at one of Emily's curls, but backed away when she threatened _his_ hair. It took work to get it all designer-messy like that. Just for fun, she took another swipe at his head and he grabbed at her hands. They were still locked in a standoff when Casey came back down.

Casey stood on the bottom step until they broke apart. Emily expected a "Don't touch that. You don't know where it's been," from her at least, but she just shook her head and asked Emily if the new necklace was okay.

Emily exclaimed over it and fussed over Casey for another minute or so, in an exaggerated way so that Derek would look at the both of them funny.

It wasn't long before Kendra showed up with her Mom's car. She came in quickly to say hello to everyone and use the bathroom before they left. It occurred to Emily that Derek was still feeling some stray holiday spirit because he was extra attentive to Kendra, walking her down the path to the car with his hand on the small of her back. He was learning. It was cute. Meanwhile, Casey watched the two of them with the corners of her mouth turned down. Because of this, Emily was really glad that Sheldon was meeting them at the party. It looked like Casey was still not in the mood for cute couples.

Part Five: Derek.

The day after Christmas was the first day of Hanukkah that year, and Derek was invited to Kendra's house. Since he was a good boyfriend (and resolved to be a better boyfriend. Guilt was a funny thing) he tried to make a good impression.

Then he met Kendra's Dad. He was expecting your basic 'Not with my daughter, you don't' kind of a guy. He'd dealt with a couple of those before. But what he got was a 'not with my daughter' guy with a hell of a lot of facial hair covering his mouth. His worst nightmare.

Kendra ran interference, repeating stuff whenever her Dad felt like giving Derek the third degree, once in a while smacking her Dad's arm and yelling "Daddy!" when it seemed like he was being particularly difficult. After a minute or so, her Mom joined in the hitting.

So he was sure that he'd missed large chunks of the conversation because Mr. Mason said stuff that Kendra didn't necessarily approve of and she wouldn't repeat it. It probably made Derek himself come off even worse because he got so paranoid. The paranoia rose when he saw Mr. Mason make a gesture that might have had something to do with either a hearing aid or a cochlear implant. By then, Mr. Mason had gotten tired of being hit, so gave up on messing with Derek. So it looked like an innocent question, but Kendra got visibly pissed on his behalf and once again refused to repeat the question.

Derek, in desperation, excused himself and went through his coat pockets until he found a little pad and a pen. He was lucky the pad was still there; he hadn't bothered with it in a while. He came back and asked Mr. Mason to just ask him whatever he wanted on paper. Then, he got the usual Dad stuff: _Do you have a job? How are your grades? Any plans for university?_ And then the guy asked about the cochlear and why Derek didn't have one and the sky didn't fall on anyone's head.

"I wasn't a good candidate for it," Derek said. Everybody accepted that.

Later, both Derek and Kendra had been so on edge that night that there was a fight. He was pissed because she'd treated him like a kid and she never really explained why she was pissed. He guessed that it might have had something to do with him finally bypassing her and getting the notepad. It was a stupid thing to get pissed about, as far as he was concerned. His reason was way better.

But later, she texted him an apology and showed up the next day bearing chocolate and pizza so he was reminded of her awesomeness and of his guilt because the more awesome she was, the more he was reminded of what an ass he could be, crushing on Casey when he had her. This led to Casey avoidance, which wasn't too hard since she was already practicing Derek avoidance. This also led to being a little more demonstrative with Kendra.

Which led to him going with her to the New Year's Eve party at Linda Martinez's house.


	32. Chapter 32

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Two.

Part One: Sheldon.

Words could not begin to describe how happy Sheldon was to be out of his house. This was the first New Year's Eve that he'd had anything resembling a social life, but this wasn't really why he was so happy and relieved to be off his couch. He was suddenly in such a good mood because he was not going to be spending yet another night listening to his brother and sister alternately snipe at each other and freeze each other out.

Both siblings expected him to take their side. When he refused, he was included in the silent treatment.

He couldn't talk to anyone about this particular fight because it just wasn't his story to tell, but Emily was pretty cool about that, asking for the short version.

"They're idiots," he'd told her. "He's bossy, she's bitchy and I just don't care what they do anymore."

"I have kettle corn and _Dawn of the Dead_," was all that Emily said. "You coming over?"

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," she said.

So he got out of the house for a couple of hours, but there was another full day of drama until he got to leave for the party. By the time he got there, he was downright giddy and had to refrain from hugging everybody.

"Okay," Linda's brother, Julio, said after he noticed that Sheldon seemed just a little too happy. "You need to tell me right now if you've been drinking." He brought Sheldon's face up level with his own, checked his eyes, and sniffed him. He had a suspicious nature, Julio.

"_What?_" Sheldon said.

"Julio!" Linda yelled from inside the house. "Let him in!"

"Yeah, whatever," Julio said. "Got my eye on you, kid."

"Vin Diesel you ain't" Linda said, bumping her brother out of the way. "Come on in, Babes, Emily's in the kitchen. Have some sugar. And try a cookie while you're at it." She was quick and businesslike as she led him into the kitchen and deposited him with Emily. She squeezed past them and got something or other out of the fridge and went back out to the living room.

"There you are," Emily said, putting her arms around him.

"Here we go," Derek said.

"Shut up," Kendra said. "They're cute."

"Hey Sheldon," Casey said. It didn't sound like she expected an answer. He waved, but he was too busy getting kissed to give anyone a proper greeting. Some things he was just not willing to rush.

After Emily pulled back, he took a couple of deep breaths and said, "Sup?" Everybody laughed. He forgot what he'd been so stressed about.

"You could learn a thing or two from him," Kendra told Derek.

"About making out in front of an audience?" Derek asked. Kendra rolled her eyes.

"About being romantic?" Kendra said.

Derek pretended to stick his finger in his nose. "Who's not romantic?"

"All this_ romance_ really makes me want chocolate," Casey said, excusing herself.

"See what you did? You grossed Casey out," Derek said. "Who knew that that's all it takes. I've been working way too hard."

"Looks like you went from one set of crazy to another," Emily said. "Sorry, babe."

"Believe me," Sheldon said. "This is nothing. This is _cute_."

Emily pulled him into another kiss, and that was enough to get Derek to leave, Kendra close behind.

When they came out of the kitchen, Derek and Kendra were nowhere to be found, but Casey was sitting on an ottoman talking to Wendall Wiggins, who was on the couch.

"Oh Casey," Emily muttered while still out of earshot of the couple.

"What?" Sheldon asked. "Wendall's okay."

"Yeah," Emily agreed. "He is, but Casey said she wants a boyfriend and now watch her spend all night hanging out with him."

"So why doesn't she just go out with—" Sheldon began, but Emily cut him off with the universal 'you're an idiot' look.

"Casey isn't Wendall's _type_," Emily said.

And then he understood. "Ohhh."

"Yep," Emily said.

"Really?" Sheldon asked.

"He doesn't really make a secret of it," Emily said. Sheldon shrugged.

Part Two: Casey.

Somehow Casey and Wendall got on the subject of theater. They often did.

"Last year," Wendall said. "There weren't enough people to do a real show, so there was a _revue_." He whispered the word "revue" like he was afraid someone would wash his mouth out with soap.

"And this year," he continued. "It looks like it's gonna be more of the same. You know, when I was in grade nine, we did _Godspell_ and it was awesome. But there's been less and less interest."

"Well, that sucks," Casey said. "I was just telling Emily that I was doing a play this year. It's one of my resolutions."

"You can help me recruit people," Wendall said. Sheldon and Emily were coming over to them and at the word recruit, Sheldon looked about to turn around and run in the opposite direction.

After several attempts at flattery, bribery, and blackmail (the blackmail was Wendall's idea) they had to give up on getting Sheldon to join the drama club. So they were back to the drawing board.

"We need some _guys_," Wendall said. "Story of my life."

"Ditto," Casey said.

Emily smirked. Sheldon swirled his cup of partially melted ice and cola like it held the answers to the mysteries of the universe.

"We have to know some hammy, attention-loving guys, right?"

Casey choked on a cheese doodle, had a little coughing fit. Emily thumped her back.

"You okay?"Emily asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "People shouldn't say stuff like that while my mouth is full."

"Why?" Wendall said. "What're you thinking?"

"Nothing that would do us any good right now," Casey said. Her eyes instinctively sought out Derek, and she found him by the fireplace, hanging with Sam and Ralph. It looked like he was in the middle of a story. Wendall followed her line of sight right to him and read her mind.

"I ever tell you I like the way you think?" Wendall said. "Do you think if Mrs. Zeldin set up a straight play instead of a musical, that we could get him to try out?" he asked.

"I dunno," Casey said.

"No way," Emily said.

"Doubt it," Sheldon said.

"There's really no reason why he couldn't," Wendall said.

"Nope," Casey said. "Not one. Unless you count being a pain in the ass."

"You know, some of the best actors in history were huge pains in the ass," Wendall said.

"This is true," Casey said.

"Doesn't hurt that he's a little hottie," Wendall said.

This time, Casey was drinking when he said that. It was only water, but that didn't make Emily any less unlucky to be standing next to her.

Derek came over. "We can't take you anywhere, can we McDonald?"

She had her hand over her mouth while she finished coughing, and she couldn't find a place to put her drink, so she couldn't even flip him off.

"You okay?" Derek asked, actually seeming concerned for a second. It was weird.

"You...care?" Casey asked, when she could talk again.

"Bringing home your dead body might put a damper on the weekend," Derek said, shrugging. "Nora would probably blame me."

Emily and Sheldon took that moment to excuse themselves, probably to find napkins to dry her off.

In an attempt to get rid of him, Casey asked, "Where's your better half?"

"My _what_?" Derek asked.

"Your better half," Casey repeated, making sure to enunciate, even though she was pretty sure he understood her the first time.

He looked around for Kendra, then shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"Don't you think you should go find her?" Casey asked.

"I like to give her some space," Derek said.

"Wrong answer," Wendall muttered.

"That just means that she got tired of him and said to get lost for a while," Casey said.

"No," Derek said. "That's what it means when someone tells you that they need space. For me, it means that Kendra's talking about shoes with her friends."

"I bet she at least pretends to listen when you talk hockey," Casey said.

"Nope," Derek said. "Not even a little."

"Sounds like a very nonverbal relationship you two have going," Wendall said.

"If it ain't broke," Derek said, taking a sip of Casey's water, turning the cup at the last minute to avoid the lip gloss mark she left.

"Just help yourself," Casey said.

"Thanks," Derek said. "I will." He took the liberty of crunching on her ice cubes. The noise went right through her.

"I'm gonna go see if there's more of that grape soda," Wendall said, getting up. He patted her head on his way out. Derek took his spot on the couch.

"Wonder where Emily went," Casey muttered, more to herself than to Derek.

"Probably drying off somewhere," Derek said.

"Ha-ha," Casey said.

"Seriously," Derek signed, now that it was just the two of them in the conversation. "You could have drowned her. Sheldon's off doing CPR right now."

"You're a jerk," Casey signed back, biting the inside of her cheek. She refused to acknowledge that anything Derek said was funny. She definitely didn't begrudge Emily her rightful making-out time, but she wanted someone to make out with, too. She spun on the ottoman, scanning the living room to see who was there. Sam was in an easy chair, Lana sitting on his lap. Ralph was feeding hot wings to a little brunette that Casey didn't know.

"Hey!" Linda said, putting her hand on Casey's shoulder. She looked from Casey to Derek as she spoke. "You guys get enough to eat?"

Derek must have made a face because Linda giggled.

"Okay," she said. "Stupid question. There's tons of stuff. Help yourselves."

"Why don't you have a seat, Linda?" Casey asked, grabbing her arm. She didn't have to ask her twice. The poor girl had been running around the whole time they were there. She sat on the edge of the coffee table.

"So how you guys doing?" Linda asked. "It's so weird to see Derek outside of the kitchen!"

Derek smirked.

"He gets nervous if he's too far from a refrigerator," Casey said. Derek nodded.

"Uh-huh," Linda said. "You stick to that story. Anyway, my brother's here and he won't let anyone turn the lights down, so you can relax. Good lipreading conditions."

Having known Derek for who knew how many years, Linda could get away with saying stuff like that out loud. Casey could not.

"Meanwhile, Casey," Linda said. "_We_ need to scope out people to dance with later."

"We do," Casey agreed.

"Maybe I should have invited more guys," Linda said.

"No more guys," Julio said, having overheard.

"Can _you_ dance?" Casey asked. He was cute. He was a little taller than she was, with good shoulders and almost shoulder length hair.

"Of course _I _can dance," Julio said. "Can you keep up?"

"Can I throw up?" Derek asked.

"Shut up," Casey and Julio said at the same time.

"You know I saw a very lonely Kendra over there somewhere," Julio said, gesturing toward the family room. "You're falling down on the job."

"I don't know about that," Derek said. "Maybe I need to keep an eye on my sister."

"I'm so sure," Casey said.

"Make sure she stays out of trouble," Derek said.

"Who's gonna make sure _you_ stay out of trouble?" Casey asked.

"That's what you call a team effort," Linda said.

"So," Casey began, turning to Julio. "_Where_ did you say you go to school?"

"Western."

"How do you like it?"

"S'okay."

"Did you pick a major yet?"

"Where'd you say Kendra was?" Derek asked.

Julio didn't bother to turn around to face him, just pointed toward the entrance to the other room.

"I was thinking of criminal justice," Julio said. His eyes pointedly followed Derek as he left. Casey giggled.

Part Three: Derek.

Derek was grabbed and pulled into a hug before he knew what was going on.

"I was hoping you'd come find me," Kendra said, cupping his chin.

He scanned the room, noticing a handful of people who were suddenly very alert, watching them. He resisted the urge to wiggle out of her grasp. He tried to remind himself that normal people did not get so bent out of shape from a little affection. Except that one could not call what Kendra did 'a little affection.'

"Where do you think would be a good place to hide?" Kendra asked. Her hand went to his hair and started playing with it.

Well that was just the perfect way to render him speechless. He grinned at her, hoping that that was enough to convey how undeserving he was.

"Any ideas?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she said. "Maybe they have a guest room."

_Oh my God_, he thought.

She led him toward the stairs and somehow he remained vertical until she led him to a room and opened the door. Finding it empty, and generic looking enough to be a guest room, she led him inside and closed the door.

"Oh so now I have your attention, huh?" Kendra said.

"Huh?"

She took his hand and put it on her breast, over her top. He stared at his hand like he just couldn't believe where it was and she leaned closer and kissed him some more. Her hands went trailing lightly up his back, under his shirt. Her nails were short, but still gave him the tingles as she scritched at him. She didn't want to leave a mark. They migrated to the bed. After a few minutes of the two of them going at it, she murmured something more or less into his shoulder. He pulled back and asked her to repeat it.

"Do you love me?" she asked. She threw the signs for "you," "love," and "me" into it.

He blinked twice and those two blinks more or less blew it for him.

She nodded. "Okay," she said. "Sorry I asked." She stood up and walked out, rebuttoning her shirt as she went and leaving him sitting on the bed like an idiot.

It was a minute before he could get it together and go after her, so she got a bit of a head start. Several kids saw him coming down the stairs after her and he thought he saw a few of them snickering.

_Yeah, thanks_, he thought. _Glad I could entertain you. _

Some kid that he didn't know pointed him toward the kitchen. Then Sam stopped him.

"Five minutes," Sam said.

"What?"

"You don't want to go in there yet," Sam signed. It wasn't the biggest of parties, so it was easy to note the sudden lack of females in the living room. That meant that several of them were now in there with Kendra and he was screwed. The remaining kids, mostly guys, pretended that they weren't seeing what they were seeing. Out of respect for the condemned.

The only one that really didn't seem interested in the Derek train wreck was Sheldon, who stood in the foyer, busily arguing with someone on his cell phone. Derek wanted to think about anything but his own issues, so he watched Sheldon.

"That wasn't a hard question," he was saying. "Do you want me to come home or what?"

He paused to listen. "Does that really mean that you don't or does that mean that you really do and that I would be an asshole to take you at your—" He turned around, but Derek could see where this was going.

Derek looked over at Sam. "What do you know?" he signed.

"It's ten minutes to midnight. My girlfriend is in the kitchen with your girlfriend. I am out here with you," Sam signed. "You're so lucky you're my best friend or else you would have to die."

Derek nodded. He wanted to go to bed and stay there for a week.

"What did you do?" Sam signed. Derek had a feeling that he hadn't seen the last of that question.

"She asked me if I love her," he signed.

Sam winced and said nothing for a minute. "What did you say?" he signed.

"Nothing," Derek signed. "It was two seconds before she got mad and ran off."

"Good thing you didn't lie," Sam signed.

_Yeah,_ Derek thought. _That's comforting. _He looked at his watch. It was 11:56 pm.

Part Four: Emily.

Kendra came downstairs sobbing and the instinct was to crowd around her and form a protective bubble. Linda, Casey, Emily, Lana, Linda's sister Gloria and pretty much every other girl engulfed Kendra and led her into the kitchen.

"What'd the little creep do?" Gloria asked.

"Quit it," Linda said. "He's not a creep, Gloria. So, what'd he do?"

"Nothing," Kendra said. "I'm stupid. I'm just a big stupid stupidhead."

_Yeah,_ Emily thought. _Kendra's not so articulate when she's upset is she?_

Meanwhile, Emily noticed that there was a little bit of a domino effect going on. Kendra cried, so that set Casey off. Most of them started leaking a little just out of sympathy, but Casey was really crying, which meant she'd been wanting to cry for a while and that was something that they'd have to talk about, but Em could deal with only one crisis at a time.

Lana, who was really just girl! Sam, led Kendra to the sink and wet a paper towel for her to wipe her face. When she was done with that, she gave Kendra a dry one. She stopped just short of holding it over the smaller girl's nose and instructing her to blow.

"So what happened?" Lana asked.

"We were making out," Kendra began. "And I asked him if he loved me."

There was a groan or two because Kendra wouldn't be in this state if he'd said yes.

"What was I thinking?" Kendra wailed. "I _knew_ he wasn't gonna say yes!"

"Did he say no?" Casey asked. "That _asshole_!"

"He didn't say anything," Kendra said. "He just looked at me like I was a trucker and he was a squirrel!"

"Maybe he was just surprised?" Lana asked.

"Oh yeah, he was surprised all right," Kendra said. "And scared."

"That's normal, though," Lana said, still trying to help.

"Derek's not a big commitment guy," Linda said.

"And you've been his girlfriend longer than anyone," Emily said. "That really means something. Maybe he just needs time."

"Yeah," Kendra said, sarcastically. "That's why he came running after me, huh?"

They heard Sam's voice from right outside the door. "Five minutes," he said.

"That's gotta be him outside," Linda said. "Sam's stalling him."

Emily opened the swinging door a sliver and peeked out.

"Derek looks pretty upset," Emily said.

"He does?" Kendra asked.

"Yeah, and Sam's just trying to get to the bottom of it," Emily said. "Asked Derek what he did." She demonstrated the signs for "What did you do?"

"So you're part of the club, too, huh?" Kendra asked.

"The club?" Emily asked.

"Forget I said anything," Kendra said.

"No," Emily said. "What are you talking about?" It seemed like Kendra might have been referring to the signing thing, but she was going ot take a class soon, wasn't she?

"I'm sorry," Kendra said. "It's just that I feel left out. _All the time_. You've known him forever, right?"

"Kinda," Emily said, guiltily.

"You, and Sam, and Ralph and _Casey_," Kendra began.

"I've only known him for a few months," Casey said. "You know him better than me."

"You're still in," Kendra said. "I'm not. You're close to him."

_You have no idea_, Emily thought.

"But he likes _you_," Casey said. "_I'm_ just the girl he has to let live in his house. Lately, he's been acting a little more brotherly, but I think it's just holiday fever. He'll be more himself when we get back to school."

The door swung open and everyone looked up, hoping for a dramatic entrance. Probably involving Derek, his hair and a white pirate shirt rippling in the wind that wasn't blowing in the Martinez kitchen.

People groaned in disappointment when it turned out to be Sheldon.

"What's going on?" Emily asked.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked. He looked pretty anxious, so she left with him.

"What's going on?"

He huffed in annoyance. "I have to leave early," he said. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"Freakin' Shawna," he said. "My parents went out and she's alone in the house and she's got boyfriend shit happening. I can't go into more detail, but she's freaking out and Shawn's not answering his phone."

"Okay," Emily said. What else was there to say?

In the background she could hear that someone had turned on the TV, having given up on the party. The countdown was starting up.

"I'm really sorry," he said.

"Don't be sorry," she said. "Nothing to worry about here."

"...8...7...6..." Some very happy, probably drunk, television host yelled into a microphone.

"Kiss," Emily said.

"3...2..."

Sheldon obliged. A muzaked "Auld Lang Syne" played on the TV and there were a couple of sarcastic toots of party favor horns in the living room.

"I love you," Emily said.

"I love you, too," Sheldon said.

"Now go," Emily said. He lived nearby and wasn't afraid to cut across a couple of backyards. "Be safe and text me when you get home."

"Will do," he said, taking off. "Call me later, if you can. I'll be up."

"Okay."

The next thing that Emily heard was Lana telling Sam that disaster had been averted.

"For now," Sam said, shrugging. Then he got _his_ proper New Year's kiss.

Emily pushed through the swinging door to see Derek kissing Kendra in front of a group of dispersing girls. Some squealed, some rolled their eyes. Casey kept sobbing. Only Emily seemed to notice at first.

"Come on," Linda said, seeing Casey and taking charge. "Back stairs." They led Casey up to Linda's room and deposited her on the bed.

"Something's gotta be in the water," Linda said. "Has to be. Unless there's a full moon. Did anyone happen to see?"

"Didn't notice," Emily said.

"You know, all that's missing is the news report that some ax murderer's just escaped from the nearest asylum because he heard there was gonna be a party full of teenagers," Linda said. "I've thrown a party on a hellmouth, I swear!"

Emily laughed. Casey made an attempt to smile. It looked like she was calming down a little.

"What else happened?" Casey asked.

"Well, I saw Sheldon fighting with someone on his cell before," Linda began. "He left, right?"

"Yeah," Emily said. Casey hugged her in sympathy and managed to get her shirt wet again. This time with a little mascara as an added bonus.

"I'm sorry, Em," Casey said.

"Don't be," Emily said. "He left right _after_ midnight."

"You got to kiss him?" Linda asked.

"Yeah."

"Small favors," Linda said. "And I heard Max Miller and Amy Anderson broke up. He took off at around ten thirty and she went over to hit on Julio but he was too busy flirting with Casey."

This, as always, looked like it came as a surprise to Casey.

"Then Miss Kendra decides it's a good move to take Derek up to the guest room, _where my grandma sleeps when she visits_, I might add. _Ew_?" Linda said. "And decides to pick _that_ moment to ask for a declaration or something. Like she was ever gonna get an honest answer from him. Because it wasn't just 'do you love me?' I bet it was more like..." Here she mimed taking her clothes off, opening an imaginary blouse and undoing an imaginary belt buckle. "'Do you love me?' I mean, what is the matter with this girl? No wonder he did the deer-in-headlights thing. I like Kendra, but can you say _desperate_?"

"You think they were gonna..." Casey trailed off. In the best of circumstances Casey was the type to spell the word out rather than say it. She couldn't even bring herself to say "do it."

"I dunno," Linda said. "It smells like mothballs and _Shalimar_ in there, so I really don't see _how_, but with a teenage boy you just never know. God, I sound like Papi." She shuddered.

"Can we talk about anything else?" Casey asked.

"How 'bout this weather we're having?" Emily joked.

"I think the natural next step is to find out what's up with _you_," Linda said.

"Nooo," Casey said. "It's nothing."

"Sure," Linda said. "I bet you do this all the time."

"I kinda do," Casey said. "Ask Emily. She can't watch a movie with me."

Emily nodded in confirmation even though this was not her usual tearing up at the end of a movie behavior.

"You're lying," Linda said.

"I just had a long week," Casey lied. "And I thought it'd be cool to come to the party but then I saw all the making out and I got sad because it's New Year's and I had no one to kiss, and then there was all the crying, so I felt like crying too."

Emily guessed that there was about 25 percent truth to that.

"Uh-huh," Linda said. "Well, I'm gonna go start wrapping up the food now, but if you wanna talk, just let me know. If you don't wanna talk to me, talk to Em, or your Mom, or somebody, because this is the type of shit that happens when you bottle stuff up, okay?"

"Okay," Casey said. Linda left them in her room.

"You know what?" Emily asked. "I don't think she believed you. Me neither."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Casey said.

"I know you don't," Emily said. "But don't you think you'd feel better if you just admitted it?"

"Not even a little bit," Casey said.

Part Five: Ralph.

Ralph and his new friend Sandra had managed to find a big hall closet to spend some time in. It was about twelve thirty or a quarter to one when Julio knocked on the door and then threw it open. Ralph and Sandra blinked like moles at the light that flooded in.

"'Sup?" Ralph said. Julio shook his head, but he was smiling.

"Out," he said. "The both of you."

They both had all their clothes on, but Sandra put on the sweater that she'd had tied around her waist. She was all embarrassed, but Ralph was still in a pretty good mood.

"At least _someone_ had a good time," Julio said.

In the foyer, Sam shook his head at Ralph in that 'can't take you anywhere' way. Derek looked cranky and ready to go home. He was holding Kendra's hand but she was definitely mad at him. Ralph would have to find out and have a good laugh about whatever he did in the morning.

A horn honked outside and Sam handed Ralph his coat.

"Let's go, Casanova," Sam said.


	33. Chapter 33

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Two.

Part One: Nora.

Clearly something had happened on New Year's Eve, but after two full days of trying to get an answer out of Casey and even Nora had to give up. At least Casey seemed to perk back up after school started, even managing a date for the first weekend. ASL classes started up again, too, and Edwin began lessons with the new piano teacher. Things were almost normal, except that Casey was gone a lot of the time. This, Nora didn't like, but as George kept reminding her, she'd resolved to give the kids a little more space this year.

A couple of weeks into the new year, Nora talked both girls into what was known as a signing supper at the mall. It was a requirement of the ASL courses, so it was a good idea to get a jump on it, and an excuse to shop beforehand. _A win-win situation_, Nora thought.

"Just us?" Casey asked.

"Just the three of us," Nora said. "Friday night. George is taking Ed and Marti to a movie and I think Derek has a date."

Casey nodded.

"I mentioned that there'll be shopping, right?" Nora asked.

"Yeah," Casey said.

Nora grabbed her eldest's wrist to check her pulse.

"Quit it," Casey said, smiling finally.

On Friday, the three of them dressed up a little. Lizzie even allowed Casey to braid her hair.

When George saw them, he'd raised an eyebrow. "Are the _three_ of you looking for new boyfriends?"

"George!" Lizzie said, rolling her eyes.

"'Cause I'll tell you what I see," George continued. "Three sisters out for a night on the town. And that's what the boys will see, too."

"Meh," Nora said. "I only like lawyers with rock-star hair."

"Oh yeah?" George asked, putting his arms around her.

"Yep," Nora said.

"Well, what if you run into one of those?" he asked.

"I do this," Nora said, leaning in to kiss him.

"We're gonna miss the movie," Edwin said. He quickly followed this with an 'Ow!" Probably courtesy of Lizzie.

"There's gonna be like, twenty minutes of previews," George said before he went for another kiss.

"I usually don't get traumatized by _those_, though," Edwin said.

"Oh how I can't wait till you have children," George said. A look of surprise came over George's face realizing what he'd just said. Nora was ready to bet any amount of money that his father said that to him a time or three. She decided that she'd tease him about that later.

Having made Edwin squirm enough, they parted, half into one car and half into the other. It would have been nice if they'd been going to the same place but the movie they wanted was on the other side of town.

Nora, Casey and Lizzie stood at the edge of the mall food court for a few extra seconds, like people about to run across a highway. Lizzie was the first to venture in. Nora never knew where the child got her confidence, but it sure as hell wasn't from her side of the family. Beside her, Casey made a little mewling noise, then said "Do we have to?" through clenched teeth.

Nora finally recognized a couple of people from their class in the mix and nobody was making fun of _their_ signing, so she decided that it was safe enough, that nobody'd bite her and she dragged Casey in with her.

Ordering food was a challenge that she didn't feel ready for. She didn't know what the etiquette was. Was she supposed to order the food without speaking? She wasn't about to assume that the kids behind the counters knew any sign and there didn't seem to be much in the way of order by number. She fretted until she saw a woman stop signing just long enough to order some sesame chicken and a root beer at the Chinese counter.

_You really need to work on this tendency to overthink_, Nora told herself. Casey had already chosen a table, putting her coat on the back of a chair, so Nora waved over and signed "The usual?" Casey nodded. Lizzie, Nora knew, always got veggie roll so she ordered that, Casey's tofu stir fry and some General Tso's Shrimp for herself. By the time she got to the table Casey'd staked out, both girls were mingling. Lizzie was hanging out with another girl her age and Casey was busy with a grandmotherly type. Both excused themselves long enough to grab their food and go back.

The smell of Nora's shrimp drove her crazy so she took a couple of quick bites before Sesame Chicken Lady asked if she could sit down.

"Be my guest," Nora signed, when she remembered that it was okay to do so with her mouth full. The woman introduced herself as Aisha and she and Nora passed the standard questions back and forth. They traded info about their kids (Aisha had a four year old and was exhausted; she shook her head in disbelief at the mention of Nora's five.)

"Two teens," Nora signed.

Aisha covered her face in horror. "You win," she signed.

After a little while, Nora felt confident enough to try telling a story and somehow had Aisha laughing about how Derek had sewn most of Casey's sleeves shut and how it took the girl half an hour to rip the stitches out. She decided against telling this woman that she'd had to stop Casey from replacing all of Derek's underwear with spandex bikini briefs in various colors and at least one zebra print. Then she heard a familiar laugh and looked up to see Derek himself leaning against a pillar.

Aisha, alerted by Nora's dirty look, turned around and spotted him too.

"Speak of the devil," Nora signed.

"He's cute," Aisha signed. Derek beamed and thanked her before sitting down.

"For the record, I only did a good job on one shirt," Derek signed. "Not my fault she picked that one."

"Her favorite shirt," Nora signed. Derek looked pretend guilty, putting his head down like he'd been a bad boy indeed and Nora had to smile. Not that she wouldn't have happily murdered him if there had been permanent damage done.

"Why are you here?" Nora signed.

He mimed being slapped then turned to Aisha.

"She's mean to me," he signed. Aisha smirked.

"Where's Kendra?" Nora signed.

"Who?" Aisha signed.

"His date."

"No date," Derek signed. There was a story here. Nora could tell, but she also knew that he wasn't going to tell her anything.

"What is Casey doing with that college guy?" Derek signed.

_Oh you think you're gonna distract me with that, huh? _Nora thought, but she couldn't resist looking. Sure enough, Casey was deep in conversation with a guy who looked to be a good five years older. Nora startled, but then she saw the guy refer to his wife, so she relaxed and turned back to Derek.

Aisha tapped Nora's hand. She looked over at Derek then back at Nora before signing "I must go now. It was nice to meet you, Nora." She handed Nora a business card with her email address and Nora took a second to dig through her bag for one of her own.

"You don't have to go," Derek signed. "I was just leaving." Nora put her hand on his arm and gave him a 'you're not going anywhere' look.

Part Two: Derek.

It was a colossally stupid idea to go to the mall instead of taking the bus straight home, but Derek knew that the house was going to be empty and that night he wanted no part of the empty house. He almost went to a movie, but going to a movie alone was almost as depressing as being in the house alone. This left him with no option but to go to the mall and check out the signing supper.

He should have thought of a cover story before he got there, though, because Nora was really observant all of a sudden. Or maybe he was just off his game.

_That's what it is_, he thought.

"What happened?" Nora signed.

Derek shook his head and shrugged.

"Fight with Kendra?" she wanted to know.

"No," he signed.

She didn't believe him. Because he was lying.

"Bad?"

"No."

"How bad," Nora signed. So it was _really_ obvious that he was lying.

In truth, he'd just been dumped and it was like Nora could smell it on him. The stink of the Ex. She moved to the chair next to him and pushed his hair off his face. She touched his forehead and his cheeks like she was checking for fever.

"I think I'll just go home," he signed pulling out of her grasp.

"Just a minute," Nora said, forgetting herself and speaking out loud. A couple of the hearing signers turned around.

"Sorry," she signed. They went back to what they were doing. She told Derek to stay put and went over toward Casey's table and that was the last thing he needed. He stopped her, but not before Casey noticed them.

"See you later," he signed but Nora went after him. She grabbed his arm and when he looked over, he saw Casey standing there, too.

And all because didn't want to be alone. Like _this_ was better. What kind of a wuss was he?

Nora looked at him, then looked around the food court. She nodded toward a bench and dragged Derek over to it while Casey followed. They were close enough to see Lizzie, but far enough away to talk without bothering people. Which meant that there would be some third degree.

Casey wanted to know what he was doing at the mall alone. What happened to Kendra? What did he do this time? Blah blah blah.

Derek shrugged. She would have been so much easier to deal with if she were annoyed with him, like usual. But she looked worried. Sympathetic even. That was unacceptable.

"De-rek!"

That was better.

"Case? I thought that the whole point of this exercise was for you to talk _less_," Derek said.

"I can ask you stuff like this," she signed.

"Take a hint," Derek signed. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Fine," Casey said. "Aren't you gonna miss your bus then?"

He looked at his watch.

"It's ten degrees outside," Nora said, lifting his chin up to face her. "No one's taking the bus. Are you crazy?"

"I do it all the time," he said. "How do you think I got here?"

"That explains your face," Casey said. His face was a little windburned, but leave it to her to make a big deal.

"Too bad we can't explain yours," Derek said.

"Insulting me is not gonna make me leave you alone," Casey said.

"Just let me know what will and I'll do it," Derek said.

"It's not gonna work," Casey said. "You don't wanna be alone or else you would have gone home after Kendra ditched you."

"Kendra did not ditch me," Derek lied. "I don't get ditched."

"Except for tonight," Casey said.

"You would have some experience with getting ditched, wouldn't you Princess?"

"Not at all," Casey said.

"Oh yeah that's right," Derek said. "Because no one will go out with you in the first place."

He thought that would've done the trick, but she just shook her head at him, pityingly. She couldn't have made him angrier if she tried.

"The next person to say anything that I don't approve of gets my hat stuffed into their mouth," Nora said. "Got it?"

That was meant mostly for Derek, and when he didn't say anything she took that for a yes.

"Okay then," Nora said. "Did you eat?"

"No," Derek said.

"Mom!" Casey said. "He's upset! Of course he doesn't want to—"

"I'm starving," Derek said. "And I never said I was upset."

At this he got two identical 'Derek's an idiot' looks.

When they got back to the food court, among people, Casey finally decided to get lost. Derek thanked God for small favors because he was still fuming over the look of pity she gave him. Like he was a completely hopeless, relationship challenged sad sack and the truth in that pissed him off even more.

Nora however, got even more hover-y, keeping her hand on his shoulder or his arm, once or twice on his cheek. He let her, for once, and didn't even put up his usual fight because this time he didn't mind so much. His Mom would've done the same thing if she'd been there, right down to the bacon double cheeseburger and fries she brought him without him even having to ask. Then she let him finish her General Tso's Shrimp.

"Want to talk about it?" Nora signed, after he'd gotten a few bites of burger in him.

"No."

But apparently it was a rhetorical question.

"Did you two break up?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you want a milkshake?"

He was about to tell her to back off when he realized what she'd asked him.

"Chocolate," he signed. Nora smiled.

He was allowed to drown his sorrows in relative peace after that. The event was winding down and Casey and Lizzie drifted back over to the table where he and Nora were sitting.

"So are we allowed to talk in here yet?" Casey asked.

"No," Derek said. She ignored him and kept right on yakking about something or other. He was too tired to watch.

Lizzie reached for one of his onion rings even as he threatened her with a plastic spork. Not being Edwin, this had no effect on her. Plus, she was too fast for him.

"Gonna eat that coleslaw?" Lizzie asked.

"Yes," Derek said. "I am."

"What's that over there?" Lizzie asked, pointing behind him. Like he was about to fall for that.

"Did that ever work on you?" Derek asked.

"Works on Edwin all the time," Lizzie joked.

"The spork works better," Derek said.

"True," Lizzie said.

"So, how'd you do tonight?" he asked.

"Awesome," Lizzie said. She told him a little about the couple of kids she met. She didn't ask him how it went with Kendra and he didn't volunteer any information about it. Later, it occurred to him that Casey told her everything, but at that moment he was just relieved not to have to talk about it.

Part Three: Casey.

Derek was an idiot. This shouldn't have come as a surprise to Casey, but even as she blasted the music on the way home from the mall, all she could think about was how stupid her stepbrother really was.

She didn't know anything about the breakup itself, but she knew that it wasn't healthy to sit there in the car and bottle up his feelings. He was so clearly miserable, and he seemed to want to stay that way. She found out that Sam tried to get him to hang out after hockey practice on Saturday, but he wouldn't have it.

Casey called Sam later.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Casey asked.

"We're gonna let him sulk until he's done sulking," Sam said.

"Are you nuts?"

"Probably," Sam said. "But this is what he does. Be patient."

"Patient???"

Sam laughed.

"But," Casey said. "Did you see his face?"

"Yep," Sam said.

"He has to talk to someone, Sam," Casey said. "I mean, I know it's not gonna be me—"

"You can say that again," Sam said.

"Very funny. But I thought for sure he'd open up to _you_," Casey said.

"Casey."

"I mean, you're his best friend."

"Casey."

"And I don't see you acting like this is a big deal," Casey said.

"Casey!" Sam said. "Relax. It's okay. Unless you can die from terminal dumpage, I think that he'll be fine."

"So he _did_ get dumped!"

"Oh God," Sam said. "Listen, um...I...yeah...I gotta go now, okay? Bye."

Emily sided with Sam, told Casey to sit tight. Being Casey, she could not.

Next, she tried Kendra herself, but her phone went straight to voicemail. She left a message but never heard back.

Derek didn't come down for dinner on Saturday, but, judging from the dishes in the sink on Sunday morning, he ate. On Sunday night, George lured him out with the smell of lasagne, but he was still maddeningly uncommunicative.

On Monday, Casey decided that she'd had enough of "sitting tight" and "giving him space." But first, she decided to get Kendra's side after French class.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Kendra said. Then, to Casey's surprise, but no one else's, Kendra proceeded to talk about it.

"It was like I was a placeholder," she said. "I could have been_ anybody_. Like 'way to make me feel special, buddy.'"

Naturally, Casey had nothing to say to this.

"And it made me all crazy and clingy and insecure," Kendra said. "And I don't _do_ insecure."

_And I'm Samuel L. Jackson_, Casey thought. But she still mostly liked Kendra so decided to be supportive and lie.

"Of course not," Casey said. Then she added, "He's just an idiot."

"Think so?" Kendra squeaked.

"Of course I think so," Casey said. "I mean, it's _Derek_."

"So what does that make me for going out with him?" Kendra asked.

"Well," Casey said. "You wouldn't be the first."

"Casey!"

"I'm kidding," Casey said. "Actually, just so you know, he's been really miserable all weekend. I mean, I've never seen him like this."

"Yeah?"

"Of course," Casey said.

"Well," Kendra said, making Casey hopeful.

"Yeah?"

"He _should_ be miserable," Kendra said. Then she started walking a little faster to her next class.

"That went well," Casey said to no one in particular. She thought she heard someone laugh behind her.

Her next move would prove to be tricky. She had to deal with Derek. She walked into English and there he was hanging with Christine, his interpreter, like it was an ordinary day and he hadn't had his heart stomped on. Or done the stomping, Casey still wasn't sure.

"Hey Christine," Casey said.

"Sup," Christine said. Derek didn't acknowledge her, but that wasn't unusual.

Luckily for him, she didn't give up easily. She spent a good part of English trying to think back to what he'd done for her when she broke up with Sam. Had he given up when she was obnoxious? No, he had not. He went against his natural Derek instincts and was _good_ to her; he made her talk to him _and_ he made sure she ate.

It was Derek, so she didn't have to worry about the eating part. The making him talk to her would be the real challenge. He could easily hold out longer than she had. He could shut her out completely; all he had to do was close his eyes or look away. She was going to have to work to get through to him.

Mrs. Parkinson called on her while she was busy strategizing and she panicked for a second because she'd just about forgotten where she was, but she'd come up with some kind of baloney answer that made Sam snicker, but also, luckily satisfied Mrs. P. And, when Casey's eyes cut over to where Derek sat, she thought she saw the corners of his mouth lift. She took that as a sign that he might be ready to rejoin the living.

But then the class ended and he proved to be too fast for her. She sprinted after him and narrowly avoided two separate head on collisions, then knocked the books out of someone's hand.

"Sorry!" she called out behind her as she kept running.

"Slow...down...you...jackass," she muttered as she ran.

Derek disappeared into the lunch line and several people separated them. No one would let her cut. It was like the universe was against her. She watched him move through the cafeteria line like he didn't have a care in the world, while she all but growled in frustration.

She finally reached him at his table. Ralph moved out of the way so that she could sit. It was like he and Sam were expecting her.

"Hey," Ralph said.

"Sup," Sam said. Just like it was any other day.

Derek concentrated on his Salisbury Steak. She plunked her tray down with a thump and got no reaction. She sat down and let him take a few bites before she tapped him.

He kept eating, so she tapped him again. Nothing. So she kept tapping him. She was starting to wonder if he'd let her get a rhythm going when he finally looked up at her.

"What do you want?" he said. It occurred to her that it had been a couple of days since she'd last heard his voice.

"I knew you had to look at me eventually," Casey said.

"Is that all?"

_Oh crap_, Casey thought. _Gotta actually say something. _She hadn't gotten that far in the plan.

"No," Casey said, thinking quickly. "I talked to Kendra before."

"How nice for you."

"Derek," Casey said. "I wanna know what's going on."

"It's none of your business," Derek said. Sam gave her a 'told you so' look. Ralph looked sympathetic.

Still, Casey sputtered like this was a surprise. "But..." then she realized that he wasn't looking at her anymore.

"You unbelievable jackass!" she said. She waved her hand under his nose and got no response yet again.

"Casey," Sam said. "Seriously, give it up for now, okay?"

"Trust me," Sam said. "Do it."

Ralph nodded.

Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. "You know what? Fine." She grabbed her tray and went to her own table.

Part Four: Sam.

As expected, Derek looked up in shock when Casey left. Casey herself, God bless her, didn't look back. They didn't see her face again until after she sat down next to Emily, and by then, her face was a nice shade of red. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

So Sam went with it.

"Is that what you wanted?" he signed.

Derek glared at him. "I wanted to eat my lunch," Derek signed.

"Okay," Sam signed. "Enjoy."

"What're you doing?" Ralph asked, while Derek wasn't looking.

"Go with it," Sam said.

Derek put down his spork after, maybe, two more bites. "Oh for God's sake."

Sam and Ralph both raised eyebrows at him.

"Let me have it," Derek signed.

"Have what?" Ralph signed. Derek narrowed his eyes.

"Tell me what an asshole I am."

"What an asshole you are," Ralph signed, grinning. Mr. Gilmour walked by, so Derek had to put his middle finger down real quick. He didn't see the teacher smirk, but Sam did.

Derek looked back over to where Casey was and saw that the tears hadn't evolved into a full blown fit of hysterics and he calmed down a little.

"Well?" Sam asked. "What are you gonna do?"

"What can I do?"

"Go apologize?" Sam asked.

"Great," Derek signed. "I have to go tell her I'm sorry for making her butt out of my private life. This should be fun."

"She was trying to help," Ralph signed, looking properly disappointed in Derek.

"You did the same thing," Sam reminded him.

"Because you broke up with her," Derek reminded him. "Your fault."

_Dream on, asswipe_, Sam thought. _That one was partially your fault, too._ But that wasn't really fair, so he kept the thought to himself.

"Just go talk to her," Sam signed.

Derek heaved the most long-suffering sigh he could manage and got up. When he reached Casey's table, Sam saw Emily rub her temple like her head hurt before she moved aside. Casey tried to ignore Derek, but she just wasn't good at it.

People were totally eavesdropping so they signed back and forth. He tried to apologize, but blew it by qualifying the whole thing with a "but you need to stay out of my business."

"Aww, Derek, you idiot," Ralph said.

Casey called him a pig and said that she only stuck her nose in because she cared. He said that nobody asked her to care. She said "Too damn bad."

"And what about Kendra?" Casey signed.

"What about her," Derek signed. "She dumped me."

_Holy crap,_ Sam thought. _He admitted it. To __Casey__. _

"Ooooh," Ralph said.

"I know," Sam said.

Casey looked just as surprised as they were.

"Get her back," Casey signed.

"No," Derek signed. "Hell with her."

Casey gave him her best disappointed face, the one which Sam thought would normally have gotten Derek to do anything, but this time it had no effect.

"She doesn't want me," Derek signed. "I don't want her."

_End of discussion_, Sam thought. Sure enough, Casey had nothing to say to that, but it looked like she at least understood what was going on and accepted that she'd done all she could do.

"You're lying" Casey signed, proving that Sam knew nothing.

"You like her," Casey signed. "I know you do."

"So what?" Derek signed.

"You won't try?"

"No."

"I don't understand you."

"Why do you care?"

Casey shook her head and shrugged. "I care."

"Well stop."

Emily and Sheldon watched both of them like a tennis match and at this last thing, Emily put her head down on the table, narrowly missing her tray. Sheldon asked her something and she answered, her head still down. He rubbed her shoulders.

Part Five: Derek.

Casey needed to stop, that was all there was to it. His instinct would normally be to insult her, but even he understood how lucky he was that he was too tired to think of an insult good enough to make her go away. Because that would make him the bad guy yet again.

She was looking at him like she wanted to shake him, like she couldn't believe anyone could be this stubborn. He got that a lot.

He'd already told her way more than he was happy with.

He looked over at Sam and Ralph, both of whom seemed to be having a really good time watching them.

"You're an idiot," Sam signed.

"Old news," Derek signed. He closed his eyes for a second and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Casey tapped him.

"What?" He said. "What do you want from me?" Then he felt like an idiot because people were gathering up their stuff and leaving the cafeteria. She was just trying to tell him that the bell rang. But then she tapped him again.

She signed, "I don't want to see that look on your face."

"Okay, how about this look?" he asked, crossing his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, Jeez, I'm sorry I'm bringing you down," he said.

"I mean I don't want you to be unhappy, jerk," she said. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"It's a gift," Derek said. Sam came by and handed him his bookbag just as Casey threw up her hands and grabbed her own stuff.

"You should really shut up now," Sam said.

Casey made a throttling gesture toward Derek and Sam nodded like he understood the feeling. Then Casey disappeared into the crowd and Sam and Ralph reminded him that he really needed to go to class now.

As they jogged to class, Sam, as usual, looked like he had about five things that he wanted to say but wouldn't. Even Ralph shook his head at him.

Later, during study hall, Sam asked him if he'd thought about what Casey said.

"Stop trying to make me feel guilty," Derek signed.

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty," Sam signed. "I'm trying to wake you up."

"Wake me up?"

"She loves you moron," Sam signed.

"Yeah, she's being a great sister," Derek signed.

"Kendra knew, you know," Sam signed. "Lana told me. She knew you weren't that into her and thought you were waiting for someone else. She just doesn't know it's Casey. I don't know how she missed it, but she did."

This was pretty much what Kendra told him on Friday night. His stomach started to hurt.

"You're wasting time," Sam signed. "You love her. She loves you."

"What part of 'she loves me like a brother' don't you understand," Derek signed. "Why else would she try to get me back with Kendra?"

"You are an idiot," Sam repeated for the eleventy billionth time since they met. "She doesn't believe you love her back. Even though I'm sure people tell her all the time. You have to show her before it's too late."

Derek thought that it must really be a burden to know everything. He didn't know how Sam managed it. Sam knew Derek like a book, that much was obvious and had been for years. And Sam thought he knew Casey pretty well. He was right about most things, so it would logically follow that he was right about this. But Derek wasn't one of those people who believed that the universe, or Casey for that matter, behaved logically. Which meant that he just couldn't take the risk. This whole mess with Kendra should have been proof that he didn't do well with rejection. Rejection by Casey is not high on his list of things he wants to see happen.

Part Six: Kendra.

In her room, Kendra found a two DVDs, a single glove, a hoodie and a paperback copy of _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ that just plain did not belong there anymore. For about a nanosecond, she toyed with the idea of pulling a _Clueless_ and tossing some of the stuff into the fireplace, but she wasn't that mean. She put it all, neatly folded, into a shopping bag and left it in the car until she could be sure to drop it off when Derek wasn't there.

She knew that he had practice on Monday afternoon so she headed to his house after school. Edwin opened the door.

"Hey," Kendra said, before he had a chance to open his mouth. "Here."

"That was fast," Edwin said.

"That's kinda the idea," Kendra said. From inside the house she heard Casey's voice.

"Wait!" Casey said. She ran across the living room and all but shoved Edwin aside. "Kendra! Come in. Don't go yet."

"But."

"No seriously,"Casey said. "I wanna talk to you."

Kendra smirked, but she knew that Casey was just trying to be nice so she came in. The fact that Casey was much stronger than she was and had a good grip on her wrist was part of the reason, too.

"So what do you wanna talk about?" Kendra asked, though she knew the answer.

"I just wanna know if you're really sure you wanna break up—"

"Oh, trust me, it was the best idea I've had in months," Kendra said.

"But...why?" Casey asked.

"It was like he woke up one day and said 'I need a girlfriend,' and then I walked by and it was like 'ca-ching,'" Kendra said. "I was just a girl with a pulse."

"Kendra," Casey said, shaking her head. "Don't you know how bad he is with expressing his feelings and stuff? He's a boy. They're like that."

"Hey!" Edwin said.

"Don't you have homework?" Casey asked him.

"I _feel_ like you're trying to get rid of me," Edwin said. Kendra couldn't help but smile.

"Go with that," Casey said. "Or better yet, just plain go."

"I'm feeling some major hostility," Edwin said. "That's something we should maybe spend some time on."

"You'll be feeling my foot in your—"

"Okay!" Edwin said. "Jeez. Who died and made _you_ Lizzie?"

Kendra laughed, for the first time all day. Casey pointed upstairs, trying to look mad, but she was getting a little giggly, too.

"He's gonna be a ladykiller," Kendra said, once Edwin was gone.

"So people keep telling me," Casey said. "Just as long as he's a little more demonstrative than his brother is."

"Tell me about it," Kendra said.

"That's the thing," Casey said. "He's weird. It's like he's a porcupine in a family of teddy bears. He doesn't hug; he doesn't talk about feelings. He pretends like he doesn't have them."

"This is my problem how?" Kendra asked.

"He really liked you," Casey said. "Likes you. He was a different guy when you were around."

"So he was _worse_ before?" Kendra asked.

"Okay, now you're just pissing me off," Casey said. "You know he likes you. Now he's trying to pretend that he's not upset, but he really is, and I can't look at him when he's like that."

"So don't look at him," Kendra said.

"How do I do that?" Casey said. "He lives here."

"Why do you care so much?" Kendra asked.

"Why does everybody keep asking me that?" Casey said. "Why's this so hard to understand? He's my brother and you're my friend and I swear you two freakin deserve each other!"

Kendra became transfixed by the cords in Casey's neck that stood out when she yelled. Way creepy.

"And another thing..."Casey said.

_Wow, she's still talking_, Kendra thought. _Does Derek tune her out like this?_ _She might want an answer soon. Pay attention._

"—sometimes I don't know why I even try—"

"Yeah," Kendra said. "Me neither. This is Derek's problem. Not yours. And it's not even a problem anymore. It's over. And frankly this is all just too weird. Do you butt into everyone's business like this or do you just do that with him?"

"No one else needs it as much," Casey said.

"Well...that's...kinda true," Kendra said.

"I know, right?" Casey said.

"But I've had enough," Kendra said. "Let him be someone else's problem."

"Great" Casey said. "Now he's _my _problem."

"Be my guest," Kendra said.


	34. Chapter 34

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Part One: Edwin.

Since he'd switched piano teachers, Edwin had been a little more willing to practice, but not as willing as his Dad wanted him to be. Dad deputized people to watch him play, to make sure that he practiced for long enough.

Marti appointed herself chief page-turner whenever it was her turn to watch him. Not that she knew when to turn the page or anything. Casey often made requests, wanting to hear Coldspray or sometimes the Cure. Once in a while, she sang along, which made the practices go faster. Lizzie was a hardass, and was especially difficult to impress, so he found himself picking harder stuff when she was around, but the worst one, the one he dreaded the most, was always Derek.

It was going to make for a great story one day, if anyone would believe it—Edwin's older brother, his _Deaf_ older brother, mind you, could spot Edwin making a mistake before anyone else. Edwin had a bad habit of wincing whenever he screwed up, but even without that, Derek could see Edwin making clumsy moves and could tell whenever he broke rhythm.

"Why are you stopping?" Derek signed during one particularly painful session.

"Screwed up," Edwin signed, turning the sheet music back to the beginning of the song.

"At a recital you start over like that?" Derek asked. "Keep going till the end."

"This is not a recital," Edwin said. "Who said anything about a recital?"

"You're gonna do one eventually," Derek said. "How you gonna impress a girl playing like that? Start over and don't stop this time."

This is the way it usually went. Derek often made him practice even after his hour was up and in the weeks after he broke up with Kendra, he sometimes brought random girls over to join in the torment.

"Your brother's adorable, Derek," Debbie or Debi (Edwin could never be sure) said.

"I'll take your word for it," Derek said, looking Edwin over with the care Derek reserves for food that's fallen on the floor before the five seconds are up.

"So, do you know 'A Thousand Miles' Edwin?" Debi/Debbie asked.

"Sorry," Edwin said. She didn't last long anyway. She was followed by Kelly, who gave way to Andrea, who held out for a couple of weeks before taking off and being replaced by Joanne, who, like Derek was Deaf, but unlike Derek, didn't give Edwin a hard time about his piano playing. And _she _thought Edwin was cute, too.

So he liked her. But she only lasted a week and a half before dumping Derek. And Derek without a girl was an even bigger hardass than usual.

"Do it again," Derek signed, repeatedly. Edwin bet that Mozart didn't have to put up with this crap.

Part Two: Derek.

Casey, in a move so keener-y it hurt, volunteered to help out on Parent-Teacher night. She willingly signed up to deal with teachers after hours, to lead lost parents back to the right classes. She even blew a perfectly good half-day to help set up.

"You disgust me," Derek signed when he found out.

"My work here is done," she signed back.

The only trouble was, the newspaper needed someone to photograph the whole thing and somehow Derek got recruited. This was what happened when half the staff had the flu. After Derek mentally cursed his Dad for making him get a flu shot, he decided that he'd be more of a glass half-full kind of guy. As such it wasn't long before he decided that this would be an opportunity.

After all, he told himself, there were a couple of cute student-council types helping out, too. He got a good shot of Cora Shapiro posing by the stairs in her little skirt. Then he got a good shot of Gloria Martinez flipping him the bird. After an hour, Derek realized that most of the rest of the pictures he'd taken were of Casey.

_Dammit_, he thought, then had to go upstairs to make sure that he didn't start doing it again. He didn't get far before his phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was from his Dad. _Room 114_, the text read. _Now._

_Uh-oh, _he thought, holding back a snort. Someone was in trouble. Maybe they found out about the alka seltzer incident.

Derek poked his head into the open door of his English class and knocked on the jamb. His Dad looked up and glared at him. He came over and waved a paper in Derek's face until he took it, his heart beating a mile a minute. It was his report card. He didn't see an F on it anywhere, so he couldn't fathom what had his Dad's panties in a bunch. He looked up in confusion and his Dad pointed. At an _A minus_ that he'd gotten in English.

Derek raised his eyebrows, still highly confused.

"Funny, I had the same look on my face," Ms. Patterson said when he looked to her for an explanation.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Dad asked. "I almost had a heart attack from the shock."

"Very funny," Derek said. "Now let's run before Ms. P. realizes that she's not good at math."

"I'm excellent at math," Ms. P. said. "And your son, Mr. Venturi, is a pretty good writer."

Dad nodded like it wasn't the biggest surprise of the man's life. Derek himself felt an urge to hide under a desk or behind his Dad, or somewhere where people wouldn't look at him.

"We always knew he was a bright kid," Dad said, embarrassing him as much as possible. "It's nice to have some proof of it, of course." Derek usually got B's, the odd C once in a while. He hadn't gotten below a C since grade one when he got held back because of a language delay they thought he had. He might have a bit of a chip on his shoulder about that, along with a general mistrust of teachers, especially English teachers. He didn't know what to make of Ms. Patterson.

Meanwhile, the A was cause for pandemonium.

"Can we go now?" Derek asked.

"No, I'm not done embarrassing you yet," Dad said. Ms. P. laughed.

"So," Dad said. "See all these other letters? What're those?"

"B's," Derek said.

"All of them? That's what I thought," Dad said. "I'm giddy."

"Are you done?"

Dad thought for a second. "Yeah, okay." he said.

"Until we get home," Dad signed.

"Your mother will be mad that she missed this one," Dad signed once they got out into the hall.

"I have pictures to take," Derek signed.

"I'll go find Nora," Dad signed.

His Dad continued to make a big huge deal out of his one A minus.

"Dad?" Derek asked on the way out. It was a long night and there was only so much of this...this...parental _goo_ he could take. "You know Casey got way more A's than I did."

"That is so not gonna work," Casey said, pulling out her phone and taking a picture of his red face before he could stop her.

"Your reputation is shot, you know," Casey said. Derek turned and walked away. He made it to the car before anyone else which made him feel like an idiot because he didn't have a key. Casey reached the car next and continued to mess with him because Dad and Nora really seemed to be taking their sweet time getting through the parking lot. Did they have to stop and talk to _everybody_?

Casey tapped him. He tried to ignore her, but Casey was world class at bugging him until he looked at her.

"K-E-E-N—" she fingerspelled before he put his hands over his eyes. A minute or so later when he peeked through the gap in his fingers, she was still laughing.

"You're still a way bigger nerd than I am," Derek signed. He was grinning by now. Her laugh had too much power over him.

"Now you're one of us," Casey signed. "There's a handshake."

"Oh yeah?" Derek signed. "Show me."

Casey held up her right hand in a 'live long and prosper' gesture and Derek lost it; the laughter was entirely out of his control. He hated when he did that. People always looked.

He tried stifling the laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth, but then Casey, who Derek thought might actually be the Devil, mimed hitching up some pants and pushing imaginary glasses up on her nose like Urkel. He looked up again and saw her sniffle and wiggle her nose like a bunny. It was like she was out to kill him. But he was also sort of grateful. It had been such a weird night and anything to break the tension he was feeling was welcome.

"What's so funny?" Nora signed.

Derek started laughing again, so he had no idea if Casey answered her or not. Nora pushed his hair off his forehead before opening the car door.

He and Casey fought each other to get into the backseat first, because it's just what they did. Going around to the other side was for losers. After a token struggle, he let her through and watched her curl up like a kitten in the back, fastening her seatbelt and begging Dad to hurry up and put the heat on. It wasn't even that cold.

Dad stopped off at a donut shop on the way back and when they got home, he sent Mrs. Higgenbothem home with some prune danish or whatever it was she liked. Lizzie, Ed and Marti were always glad to get rid of her. She watched a lot of game shows and made them miss Idol.

Lizzie and Edwin spoke at the same time and Derek didn't know who to look at, so he turned to his Dad for a response.

"No," Dad said, pointing at Edwin. "Nobody's in trouble."

Edwin looked disappointed. Then Dad turned to Lizzie. "And there are donuts in the box."

So that was both questions answered.

Dad tapped Derek next. "Why don't you go upstairs and get Marti," he signed.

"What if she's asleep," Derek signed, already knowing better.

Dad raised an eyebrow at that. Derek nodded.

Sure enough, he saw a lump of covers on Marti's bed that just barely concealed the light from the flashlight she was using. He decided on the direct approach, coming into her room without attempting to conceal his movements and sitting on the edge of her bed, asking:

"You don't want a donut or anything do you?"

The lump moved around for a little bit, probably looking for an opening before Smarti burrowed her way out. She put her arms around his neck in greeting and let herself be carried downstairs.

At the table, Dad made good on his promise not to stop embarrassing Derek. Smarti joined in the fun, declaring Derek the smartest big brother ever.

"Hey!" Edwin said, right on cue. Marti hugged him.

"You're the second smartest," she said, which was both untrue and really funny, so Derek laughed some more. He probably shouldn't have laughed, but it would only be a matter of time before everyone acknowledged that Edwin was a pretty big deal. Then Edwin would only have a short time to enjoy that before Marti blew him out of the water.

"In the house?" Edwin asked.

"In the world," Marti said. "Duh."

"That's a little better," Edwin said. He crammed a good two thirds of his donut into his mouth, chewed it a couple times then swallowed it while everyone watched in amazement. Casey said something to him that Derek missed.

"She said I'm like a snake swallowing a goat," Edwin signed. His mouth was already full again.

"You just noticed this, Casey?" Derek asked.

"Every time's like the first," Casey said.

"You gonna eat that?" Derek asked, eyeing her cruller.

"Yes," Casey said, breaking off a maddeningly tiny piece and nibbling.

Nora started to try to limit the little ones' sugar intake, afraid that they'd be up all night, but it only took about an hour before the crashing started and Derek had to carry Marti back upstairs.

Through Casey's open door he could see that she was still in a good mood, dancing around the room and singing a little while she did her usual getting ready for bed stuff. As he passed, she was setting out her clothes for the next day. He took his time walking by her room to make sure that she saw him shake his head at her sheer keenerosity. That's what he was doing. He wasn't watching her.

She even put the shoes she was going to wear under the chair where she put the rest of the outfit. When she caught him not watching, she gave him the Vulcan salute thing again, then put the shoes back in the shoe-rack thingee and picked another pair. She squinted at them and then at the sweater she had on the back of the chair and back again.

"What?" Casey asked, looking up.

Derek shook his head, wanting to make some sort of wisecrack but unable to think of anything better than "those shoes make your ass look big," and he could do better than that. The thing that threw him off was that she was still singing along to something in between asking him what the hell he wanted. He wasn't about to admit that he sort of liked to watch her sing, the same way he liked to watch her dance when she danced around him. The same way he liked to watch Edwin play the piano even when that pesky keyboard kept making mistakes. If he said any of this to Casey, though, she'd get the wrong idea. She'd assume that a Deaf person, namely him, watching someone (her) do something musical just had to be pining for lost hearing. He was curious about her voice, sure, but since he had no basis for comparison, it didn't seem all that important. Nothing to be all emo about.

Sam understood stuff like this, because Derek made him watch a few videos with the sound off and pointed out why they could be really funny (like those singers who waved their arms around for no apparent reason, for example, and the faces they made) or involving (like any musician that gets so involved with playing and or singing that they forget that the camera's there). In a lot of ways, it was just like watching a movie. It was possible that Casey would get it if he took the time to explain, but they just didn't have that kind of relationship.

So he didn't ask Casey what she was singing, though he wanted to. Instead, he asked her if she was really going to wear that outfit she laid out.

She went back to the shoe rack and pulled out a flip-flop. She brandished it at him and he backed off. Those things really stung when someone slapped you with them.

Nevertheless, he just didn't sleep well unless he was threatened by Casey at least once before bed.

Part Three: Casey.

Casey, once again, had a million things to do. The day after Parent-Teacher night, there was a semi-emergency drama club meeting which focused on the need to get more members before they cut funding again. Wendall gave her a look and she knew what he was thinking.

"You know he'll say no," Casey said when he actually brought it up again.

"So?" Wendall said. "Do you usually take no for an answer? Try a little psychology."

"Psychology, huh?"

"Yeah," Wendall said. "You can be all 'people wanted me to ask you if you'd do the play but I said you'd never do it, because it'd be just _too hard_ for you ' and then all you have to do is hand the baton over to his ego."

Casey liked the way his mind worked. But.

"I don't know about that," Casey said. "That could backfire."

"Think so?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "What if he thought I meant it?"

"That's the idea," Wendall said. "He's supposed to prove you wrong."

"No," Casey said. "People underestimate him. I don't want him to think I'm one of them."

"Come _on_," Wendall said. "He wouldn't think that."

"That's a button I don't wanna push, okay?" Casey said. _I like him too much_, she thought. There was a difference between merely pissing him off and actually hurting his feelings and she didn't know which way something like this would go. It didn't happen often, but once or twice, Casey had seen people talk down to Derek, or sometimes bypass him completely and just ask Edwin or Sam to explain things to him. Derek could shrug it off, even play along, but sometimes it clearly ruined his day. Casey wasn't supposed to notice that, but she did.

"Okay," Wendall said. "Have any other ideas?"

"Bribe him?" Casey said.

"Do you have any cash?"

"I was hoping _you_ did," Casey said. Wendall shook his head.

"We can always tell him about the female-to-male ratio," Wendall said. "And how people tend to run around backstage with very little clothing on."

"Um" Casey said. She'd forgotten about that part. Last time she did a play, it was at an all girls' school, so the possibility of changing in front of guys slipped her mind.

"What's the matter?" Wendall asked.

"Nothing," Casey said.

She didn't hold out much hope for Derek. She made a mental list of people she might be able to get for the play so that she didn't feel like a total failure. But she promised to ask him, so she'd have to ask him and endure whatever mockery that followed.

That night, however, Sam stayed for dinner and that gave Casey an idea.

Casey talked about her drama club meeting, doing her best to highlight the drop in membership and the cut in the budget. Her Mom and Lizzie cared and Sam at least managed to look sympathetic, but no one else paid any attention.

"Yeah," Casey said, poking out her lower lip. "We can't even afford to do a musical and you don't even _know_ how much I was looking forward to dancing and singing with guys for a change."

"That's too bad," Sam said, not really meaning it. She appreciated the effort, but not enough to make her feel guilty for doing what she did next.

"So it's gonna be a collection of one-act plays instead," she said. "Should be really interesting."

Sam nodded, took a swig of iced tea.

"You ever think about doing any theater, Sam?" Casey asked, off-handedly.

Right on cue, he choked on his tea. This made Derek look up and Edwin thump Sam's back until he was sure he could breathe again.

"Wrong pipe," Sam gasped. "I'm okay," he signed.

Derek looked at Casey for an explanation. "What'd you do to him?" he asked.

"Nothing," Casey said. "I just asked Sam to try out for the play festival thing."

As Derek laughed, his head flew back so far that it looked like he'd tip the chair. Sam chuckled a little even though he was being insulted. Casey waited patiently until Derek was finished making like a Pez-head.

"Anyone gonna tell me why this is funny?" Casey asked, setting both boys off again, though thankfully, not so dramatically.

"I, um, don't do stuff like that," Sam said. "Ever."

"How come, Sweetie?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, how come?" Casey said. "People would come see you. You're cute and funny and I bet you'd be great."

Sam shook his head and looked ready to hide under the table.

"Sam gets nervous when he has to order from a drive thru," Derek said. Sam nodded.

"Public speaking and me," Sam said. "Don't go together."

"Well," Casey said. "Do you know anyone else on the hockey team who would do it?"

"Huh?" Sam asked.

"We need somebody popular," Casey said. "To attract attention. It's a cynical move, but, you know, desperate times..."

"Why don't you ask Smerek?" Marti asked, nudging him.

"What, Smarti?"Derek asked.

_Mental note,_ Casey thought. She couldn't have planned it better. _Go to the toy store this weekend. Buy Marti whatever she wants. _

"Casey wants to ask you something," Marti said.

"Oh I don't know about that, Marti," Casey said.

"Don't know about what?" Derek asked.

"He'll totally say no," Casey said.

"Say no to what?" Derek asked. "You're not still talking about that play are you?"

"I was saying we needed some _popular_ people to go try out for the play. We especially need guys because it's almost all girls so far. And _Marti _said that I should ask _you_. You know, because you're so popular," Casey said.

"You're right," Derek said.

"About what?"

"I am popular," Derek said. "And that's why I'd totally say no." He went back to his tuna casserole.

Casey shrugged. At least she'd given it a shot. She figured she'd go after some other people she'd had her eye on in the morning. She could be pretty persuasive when she wanted to be. It was all planned out in her mind.

Her body, however, had other ideas. She woke up with a sore throat and a headache. She was also running a temperature and got exactly as far as the kitchen before the sight of the oatmeal George was stirring made her stomach file an official complaint. A grievance with the union. She stifled a moan and turned away from the stove.

That was when people started feeling her forehead. George was first because he was closest.

"Crap," he said. "Okay, have a seat." He practically put her into the nearest chair. Then he went to the door that led to the basement.

"Nora!" he called. "Is the thermometer down there? Could you bring it up?"

Lizzie's ears perked up at that. "Who's—"she began as she came into the kitchen, but then she had _her_ hand on Casey's head.

"What's wrong?" Lizzie asked.

"It's nothing," Casey said.

"Okay," Mom said when she came up. "Who is it?" George pointed at the rapidly disintegrating lump of Casey who by that time was becoming one with the tile on the kitchen table. The tile was cold against her face and she was already shivering, but getting up would be worse.

"Come on and sit up for a second, baby," Mom said. Casey lifted her head far enough to prop her hands under her chin.

"Open up," Mom said, then shoved the electronic thermometer into her mouth.

"Thirty-eight point three," Mom said.

"Crap," George said.

"Could be worse," Mom said.

"Flu?" George said.

"Looks like," Mom said.

"I thought you got a flu shot, Casey," George said.

This was so not the time to get on her back about blowing off the flu shot. She looked at him beseechingly. "I really hate needles," was all she could think of to say.

George took a deep breath, a 'give me strength' sort of thing. "Okay," he said. "Nothing we can do now. Why don'tcha go lie down on the couch and we'll call the school."

"I'm sorry," Casey said.

"No worries," George said. "Just go lie down."

On her way into the living room, Edwin touched her forehead.

"Dude," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," Casey said. She flopped down onto the couch and hugged herself against the cold in the room. Mom and George debated about who'd stay with her, ignoring her protests that she could stay home alone.

"Dad? I think you should let _Nora_ stay with her," Casey heard Edwin say. "Okay?"

"_Edwin_," George said, like he was gearing up to give him a tongue lashing. Then he paused. "Okay, fine."

"Okay," Edwin said.

She slapped a hand off of her forehead, opening her eyes finally to see Derek standing over her.

"Do you people expect a genie to fly out of my nose or something?" she said.

"Genie? No," Derek said. "Looks more like a booger to me."

Lizzie handed her a box of tissues and she used a couple. Then, she sat back and closed her eyes again.

When Casey woke up, she was covered by a blanket and a stuffed monkey was watching over her from behind the tissue box.

_Take one Monks a Lot and call me in the morning_, Casey thought. _Dr. Smarti strikes again_.

"How you doin' sleepyhead?" Mom asked. Casey lifted her head just far enough to glare.

"Point taken," Mom said. "Feel like eating?"

"No," Casey said.

"Need anything?"

"No," Casey said, adding a thanks as an afterthought. Then she remembered something. "Oh no."

"What?"

"What time is it?"

"Twelve-forty two," Mom said.

"Need to text Emily before lunch ends," Casey said, sitting up.

"What's so important?"

"I just remembered that Mrs. Zeldin's putting out copies of monologues and stuff for the auditions today."

It was Friday, and Mom knew better than to ask if it could wait till Monday. The auditions were at the end of the following week.

Her Mom, who was the best Mom in the world, she was convinced, went upstairs and got Casey's phone for her. She fired off a quick text before she fell asleep again. Then she was in and out for a while, catching bits and pieces of a soap opera, just enough for the dialogue to invade her mind, so that she dreamed about having an evil twin. It was then that she was woken up by Derek coming home. He was trying to be quiet, moving slowly, and making sure that the door didn't slam for once. He looked guilty when he saw that she was awake.

"Wow" he signed. "You look like shit."

She flipped him off. He had some rolled up paper conspicuously sticking out of his pocket. She was supposed to notice it. He handed it over when she saw her look at it. It was the packet that Mrs. Zeldin put out.

"Emily had to go someplace with her Mom," he explained.

"Thanks, Derek," Casey said. "Did you pick up a copy for yourself?"

"Are you crazy?" Derek asked.

"Did you read it?" Casey asked.

"Read?" Derek asked. He rolled his eyes. "I don't read." He walked away shaking his head.

But it looked like he at least flipped through it.

Part Four: Sam.

Casey apparently wasn't the only one bent on recruiting for the drama club. Sam, Derek, and Ralph were stopped on their way to lunch twice. It even looked like Tara Simmons was going after them in the cafeteria line, where there was no escape, but it turned out that she was really after Max Miller.

_Poor kid_, Sam thought. If there was anyone who looked less likely to do theater than Sam himself, it'd have to be Max.

"Um," Max squeaked. "I really don't think that's for me."

Sam was right behind Tara and watched as she ran her hand up and down Max's arm. He took a step backward, knocking into Tinker Tomlin, who narrowly avoided being gravied by Audrey, the lunchlady.

"Sorry, Tink," Max said.

"Oh, Tink!" Tara said. "I didn't even see you there!"

"Happens," Tinker said.

"Well, you know what's a really good way to stand out?" Tara began. "Make people notice you?"

_She really isn't good at this_, Sam thought, as Tara, to Max's obvious relief, pushed past him to bother Tinker.

Sam turned to Derek. "Doesn't this make you miss Casey?"

"No," Derek said.

"How do you think she's doing?" Sam asked.

"What happened to Casey?" Max asked. Sam turned around in surprise. He didn't know Casey and Max knew each other.

"She stayed home sick," Sam said, putting his tray down and signing key words because he had his back to Derek and Derek didn't take kindly to missing parts of the conversation. Sam and Ralph had this sort of thing down to a science.

"Captain Trips," Derek said. Ralph snickered. Sam groaned. Max squinted, looking confused.

"Captain Trips?"

"Dude, you _suck_," Ralph said. "You didn't get that? Even I got that."

"No idea," Max said. He reached for a plate of turkey meatloaf.

"It's from _The Stand_," Sam explained, grabbing a plate of his own.

"That's a book," Derek said.

"Captain Trips is what they called the flu outbreak that kills off most of humanity," Sam finished, as if Derek hadn't spoken.

"M-O-O-N," Ralph said, transferring his tray to his other hand and fingerspelling it, out of habit. "That spells humanity."

Audrey laughed.

"Audrey's a Stephen King fan," Ralph said, winking at her. "How you doin' Audrey?"

"Flirting does not get you extra gravy, kid, how many times do I have to tell you?" Audrey teased. "Him? Maybe," she pointed at Derek. "But not you."

Ralph stuck out his lip and got a little more gravy.

Max noticed none of this.

"So you're saying she's sick," Max said, after he was done looking at the three of them like they'd grown unicorn horns.

"Yeah," Sam said. Behind him, Derek snorted.

"That's..." Max began. "Too bad."

"She'll live," Derek said, shrugging. Max nodded, paid for his lunch, and retreated before anyone could confuse him more.

_Dude's an android_, Sam thought. _Has to be. How do you live without a sense of humor otherwise?_

"Ooooh," Ralph said. "Max likes Caaaaseeeey!" Derek was too busy disapproving to notice Ralph trying to do the cabbage patch with a full tray of stuff.

"So," Sam asked, getting back to the subject at hand. "Do you think your Dad's smothered her yet?"

"No," Derek said. "Nora stayed home with her." Both Sam and Ralph had been witness to how weird and hover-y George got whenever any of the kids ran a fever. Derek, Edwin, and Marti had been vaccinated against everything he could think of.

It was safe to say that Casey had no idea what she was in for.

"But I think Dad's getting better," Derek said. "He didn't even yell at Casey for not getting the flu shot. He would've torn me a new one."

"She's new," Ralph said. Derek nodded.

"And the day is young," Derek said. They reached the table and Derek put down his tray. "Who knows what I'm gonna find when I get home?" he signed.

"Dude," Ralph said. "Don't _say_ stuff like that. Bad things happen."

"No," Sam said. "Bad things happen when you say 'What could possibly go wrong?'"

"Still feels like a jinx," Ralph signed, for emphasis. He looked around for wood to knock on but didn't find any.

"You have to be nice to her again," Sam signed.

"Who says?" Derek signed. Sam and Ralph stared at him.

"I'll keep my Dad off her back," Derek signed. "That's it."

They all knew that that was most certainly not "it" but they all had the decency not to mention it, even when Emily came by and begged Derek to pick up the audition stuff from Mrs. Zeldin because she couldn't stay after.

And, good friend that Sam was, he _didn't_ point out that now Derek had the perfect excuse to go check out the play without looking like he was actually interested in trying out. Which he _was_. Sam knew that look when he saw it. And it wasn't just to chase Casey either.

Mrs. Zeldin's classroom was on the way out, so Derek asked Sam to wait for him, thinking he'd go in, grab the packet and leave.

"Should only take a second," Derek signed.

_What could possibly go wrong? _Sam thought, stifling a laugh. He checked his pockets for change for the city bus. They were sure as hell going to miss the cheese bus. He waited outside for all of a minute because while Mrs. Zeldin herself had a voice that could carry to the back of a theater without a microphone, from behind the door, Derek sounded like the grownups on all the Peanuts cartoons, absolutely no good for eavesdropping. So Sam opened the door and peeked in.

And immediately regretted it.

"Sam!" Mrs. Zeldin said. "Come on in; Join us!"

He expected to see Derek looking as apprehensive as he himself felt, but really he should've known better. Derek was fine. Of _course_ he was. Even though Mrs. Zeldin was giving him the 'come into my parlor' look.

Mrs. Zeldin positioned herself in front of both boys so that Derek could get a full view of both of them if necessary.

"I was just telling Derek about a show I saw in New York a couple of years back," she said. "It was _Big River_, ever hear of it, Sam?"

Sam shook his head.

"It's a musical based on _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_," she began. "I saw a revival of it in which the play was voiced and signed at the same time. Deaf and hearing actors," she said.

_Uh-oh_, Sam thought. He looked at Derek who had on his best poker face.

"I only wish we had the budget to do something as cool as that," Mrs. Zeldin said. "Not to mention the general shortage of fluent signers we have in this school."

Sam put his hands in his pockets involuntarily.

"Take your hands out of your pockets, Sam, I've seen you sign, and while I'd just about die to see you do it on stage, if you don't want to, I won't make you," she said.

Sam felt the blush creeping up his neck. Derek nudged him.

"I've been trying to convince Derek that I'd like to see _him_ audition," Zeldin said. "Do a little signing, voicing,or, ya know, both?"

Sam stared at Derek again. He was still giving nothing away, but Sam was starting to get the idea that Mrs. Zeldin was really winning Derek over.

Derek grinned.

"Thanks," he said. He rolled the papers up in his hand and gestured with it. "But I'm really only picking this up for my stepsister because she's sick and I have to be nice to her while she's sick."

Mrs. Zeldin laughed. It was like she knew she had him. He was fishing change out of the pocket in his messenger bag, so she had to tap his shoulder to get him to look up again.

"Would you at least think about it?" she asked.

"Think?" Derek said. "Me?" He made a face and she laughed some more.

"Tell Casey I hope she feels better," Mrs. Zeldin said.

"Will do," Derek said, giving her a little wave and turning to leave.

Sam grabbed another packet off of the neat stack on Mrs. Zeldin's desk. He folded it and put it into his back pocket. "He'll probably be there. At the audition, I mean." Not that she didn't know that.

"I hope," she said, innocently.


	35. Chapter 35

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Part One: Nora.

When Casey was sick, Nora knew to expect either diva or martyr type behavior ("Oh don't bother yourself about _me_," Casey was known to croak. "I'll just crawl into the kitchen for my _own_ juice."). Nora was used to it and it didn't last long. What she wasn't prepared for was for George to turn so nervous. If she'd seen it coming, she would have done more to make sure that Casey—Nora knew she was afraid of needles—had gotten the flu vaccine.

But it was only the flu, and Casey didn't get sick too often, so she'd let it go.

Then George called from work several times to find out how Casey was doing. He tried to sound offhand and cute, saying stuff like "So, Hotlips, how's the patient?" but it didn't work. He was worried. When he heard that her fever had gone up a little, he threatened to come home, and it took a bit of convincing, including a promise to call if Casey's temperature went any higher, to get him to stay at work.

_Honestly, _Nora thought. _You'd think he'd have a little more confidence in me. It's been almost sixteen years, and I haven't managed to kill her yet—_

Then she remembered that, given George's experience with childhood illness, especially with high fevers, he would have reason to get nervous when one of the kids got sick. And so she didn't go off on him the next time her phone rang.

"Hey Georgie," she said. "It's back down to thirty eight point three."

He didn't pretend that that wasn't why he called. "Okay, good," he said. "So what am I bringing home? Regular chicken soup or do you think she'd try wonton?"

"Chicken and rice if you can get it," Nora said.

"Okay," George said. "Pulp or no pulp in the juice?"

"No pulp," Nora said.

"Cool," he said. He seemed happy to be occupied.

Of course, all that changed when he got home and got within grabbing distance of the thermometer.

"When was the last time you checked?" he asked.

"About an hour ago," Nora said. "Relax."

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs, probably asleep by now," Nora said, giving him a warning look. There'd be hell to pay if he woke her up. "Edwin brought her the portable DVD player and a stack of movies. Washed his hands a couple times when he came down because he 'got _chick flick_ on them.' It was sweet. I didn't even have to ask him."

"That's good," George said distractedly.

"Stay down here with me," Nora said. "Help me figure out what to feed the others." In a burst of inspiration, she opened the fridge to reveal the usual haphazard stack of tupperware containers. That ought to keep us busy for a bit, she thought.

They went through the containers putting them in three stacks on the counter: probable, doubtful, and furry. Part of her wanted to arrange the fur by color. That would amuse the boys, anyway. It took twenty minutes before they decided to order a couple of pizzas.

George kept checking his watch.

"You're staying down here, Georgie," Nora said.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "The boys probably won't let me near her anyway. Especially Derek."

"Just do your best to relax," Nora said. "It's just the flu. All we can do is keep an eye on her and watch for the fever spiking. Otherwise we wait it out."

"You know, that's _exactly_ what the doctor said with Derek," George said.

"Georgie," Nora said, rubbing his arm.

"We thought it was the flu," George said. "Until he had a seizure." Nora put the container she was washing down and gathered him into her arms. This was a trauma that no amount of Georgie-ing could help.

"It's okay," Nora said. "And Casey's not two. She's highly articulate, and not at all shy about complaining if something's really wrong. We'll ride it out. I'm sure the worst that'll happen this time is that we'll have to have your head reattached after Casey bites it off."

"Been there already," George said. "After the tonsillitis incident."

"Which one was that?"

"Edwin," George said. "Though Derek was the one who did the biting because Ed wasn't quite up to it, yet."

Nora couldn't help but smile as she pictured that.

"Glad you find that funny," George said, smiling a little himself, finally.

"It just sounds so very Derek," Nora said.

"Yeah, he can be a cranky little monster," George said.

"And he's a total Papa Bear," Nora said. "Like some other people I know."

"God, I hope he doesn't end up like me,"George said.

"He could do worse," Nora said.

"He could do better," George said.

"Well, now you're just fishing for compliments, aren't you?" Nora said.

Part Two: Casey.

Casey was of the opinion that she couldn't be blamed for any unpleasantness that came from her illness. It couldn't be helped. If she wasn't actively puking on someone, she reasoned, she was ahead of the game. And that day, she always felt like puking. When she wasn't hacking.

And she was _always_ hacking. She imagined hairballs in her very near future. This made her feel less than social, so she didn't appreciate being checked on.

"How ya doin?" George said, for the second time since she woke up.

"Kill me," Casey said.

"Would you like some pizza first?"

"Nooo," Casey said. _Never mention pizza in my presence again,_ she thought.

"Okay," George said. Then he disappeared only to show up about five minutes later, tray in hand. On the tray was a bowl of soup, a glass of juice, and a vase with a tissue-paper flower, probably courtesy of Marti.

And the thermometer.

"George," Casey said. She was sick of the sight of the thing already. She kept turning her head away from it until George got annoyed.

"Keep this up and I send your mother up with the _other_ thermometer," He threatened. "Do I need to elaborate?"

She opened her mouth to yell at him and he stuck the thermometer in. She figured she was beaten at that point, and didn't want to find out if they really _had_ one of the old fashioned kind of thermometer. After it beeped, he took it out.

"Now was that so bad?" he asked. She glared.

"Well?"

"Thirty seven point eight," he said. It had gone down a little, at least. But it still didn't that much to stop the mean little troll who was jumping up and down right behind her eyes.

"Now," George said, "_Mangia_."

"Ugh."

"Gotta stay hydrated or you'll feel worse," George said. And of course he was right, but she didn't much feel like admitting it. He stood over her and made it known that he wasn't going away.

"The others are not going to leave me any pizza," George said. "Do you want that on your conscience?"

"Have some soup," Casey said.

George tried not to smile, like she was kidding or something. "The faster you try some, the faster I get out of your face."

"Until next time?"

"_Now_ you're catching on," George said.

She managed to get some soup and a little of the juice down before her stomach decided she was done.

"Good girl," George said, taking the soup and leaving the juice. He handed her some pills while he was at it. She half expected him to pat her on the head, and if so, he'd lose that hand, even if he _was_ George. If she had been in her right mind, she never would have snapped at him. He was _George_. You couldn't be mean to him. Only...really bad people were mean to him.

This kind of thought process led her to the conclusion that she needed some more sleep. When she woke up, she was a little sweaty, but she felt better. Hungrier even. Her brain told her to wait till morning, that it wasn't good to push it, but her stomach begged to differ. She looked over at the clock and saw that it was only 1 am and her stomach, having received that news, took over her body.

The light was on in the kitchen.

_Dammit,_ Casey thought. She wasn't in the mood for people. She especially didn't need to run into Derek while she was operating at such a wit deficit, (and while she was looking so crusty) so she was prepared to turn around and go back up if it was him.

She found Edwin, leaning against the counter and munching on a piece of cold pizza. That wasn't so bad. Except that he took one look at her and snorted.

"Shut _up_," she said.

"I didn't say anything," Edwin said, while actively giggling, so it lost any believability it might have had. "I especially didn't mention how your voice is now deeper than mine."

"My voice is _usually_ deeper than yours," Casey said.

"He-ey!" Edwin said, making certain he squeaked a little on the first syllable. His voice had only started to deepen a month or two before, and he was really having a good time exploring the comedic possibilities of it. "It is _not_!" He pretended to pout as she washed her hands.

"Pizza?" he asked offering one of his cold slices.

"Better not," she said. She grabbed the carton of juice and poured herself a little, taking little bird sips of it.

"So how do you feel?"

"You're not gonna try to take my temperature are you?" Casey asked. "I feel like a pork roast."

The difference between Edwin and Derek was that Edwin laughed at that _without_ telling Casey that she looked like a pork roast, too.

"One of these days Dad's gonna get a holster for that thing," Edwin said.

"Why's he like that?" Casey asked.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously what?" Casey asked. "You're looking at me like I should know something that I obviously don't, so spill."

"Derek," Edwin said, still looking at her like she was an idiot. "Nobody told you?"

"What, because he had—"Casey began. Edwin nodded.

"Oh shit," she said, realizing.

"Yep," Edwin said, his mouth full.

"And he was little, right?"

"He was, like, two," Edwin said. "It was before I was born anyway."

"Two!" Casey said. She hadn't thought about how old he'd been when it happened, but she'd somehow assumed Derek was older when he lost his hearing.

"_Dude_," Edwin said. "Keep it down before you wake the 'rents and my Dad actually does break out the thermometer again."

"Oh my God," Casey said.

"Mom freaks out, too," Edwin said.

"Oh my God," Casey said. She ran through the whole thing in her mind, trying to imagine what it was like being told that your_ two _year old had meningitis and would probably die, etc. etc. She put the juice away. Her stomach had slammed shut again.

"And I was mean to George," Casey said. If _her_ kid had been that sick, she would have been much more of a worry wart than George was. She put her head in her hands.

"Relax," Edwin said. "He was laughing his ass off when he came down from your room before."

"Are you just trying to make me feel better?"She peeked through her fingers.

"Naw," Edwin said. "It's true. He was saying something about wanting to smother you with a pillow..."

"Stop it," Casey said.

"Drown you in chicken soup," Edwin said.

"Edwin!"

"You might have cured him," Edwin said. "Betcha he has no bedside manner now."

She started laughing and before long, it turned into a cough, which she tried in vain to smother.

Next thing Casey knew, her mother was patting her back.

"I woke you up?" Casey squeaked, when she was able to.

"No," Nora did. "That pizza did. Didn't you hear it calling my name?"

"You, too, huh?" Edwin asked.

Nora nodded. Then she started pushing Casey's greasy hair out of her equally greasy face.

"Feeling better?"

"A little," Casey said. "Except for the guilt thing. How's George?"

"He figured out that you wouldn't be able to be so cranky if you were in any danger," Mom said. "And he relaxed a little."

"I'm such a monster," Casey said. Then out of nowhere, "I wanna hug him."

"Try to keep that in mind in the morning when he's force feeding you farina, okay?" Mom said.

"Okay," Casey said. "Will do."

Edwin laughed again.

"Hush, before I breathe on you," Casey said.

"I won't get it," Edwin said.

"Wanna take that risk?" Casey said.

"Feel lucky, punk?" Edwin said.

"What if it's not the ordinary flu?" Casey said. "What if it's the superflu? Was it _your_ idea to put _The Stand_ into that pile of movies you brought me, by the way?"

Edwin laughed. "No," he said.

"Oh Edwin," Mom said.

"Spent half the night thinking I was gonna die," Casey said.

Edwin laughed some more. "I swear, it wasn't me. Derek's the one who gave me the stack."

Casey narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn't picture Derek picking out all of the rom-coms in the pile, but she could definitely see him slipping the one horror movie in there, knowing full well that she had never seen it. She saw a good portion of it before she fell asleep.

"Jerk!" Casey said.

"You didn't have to watch it," Mom said.

"How did you not know what it was about?" Edwin asked.

"I was curious," Casey said. "It's supposed to be really good."

"And wasn't it?" Edwin asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "Except for all the bodies. And that guy in the cornfield. With the mullet."

"The Dark Man?" Edwin asked.

"Stop it," Casey said.

"But you can't outrun the Dark Man!" Edwin intoned.

Mom laughed. Then Casey laughed, and coughed some more. Edwin was just too good at this type of thing not to crack her up.

"Go to bed," Mom said. "Both of you."

When Casey got to her room, she noticed that Derek's light was on and the door was open. Curiosity got the better of her and she peeked in. He was asleep with a magazine across his chest. Part of her wanted to go in and turn off the light. But, she thought, if he woke up, the whole thing would look weird, so she left it on. Let her Mom do stuff like that, she decided.

Part Three: Derek.

Saturday morning Casey came downstairs looking a little better, having showered before Dad or Nora could stop her. Her nose and all the skin around it was red and chapped, and she had no makeup on, but she'd looked way worse the day before.

He debated whether he should make fun of her. On one hand, it was expected, and if he didn't mess with her a little, she might think he was worried about her or something. This he could not have. On the other hand, she really did still look like hell and pointing the fact of that out seemed a little mean. He took a bite of his breakfast pizza while he thought about it.

After Casey sat down in her usual spot next to Derek, Dad put some hot cereal stuff in front of her and she actually seemed to want it. Derek didn't get the appeal. It looked like melted styrofoam to him. As he thought that, Marti took a big lumpy bite of the stuff and he cringed. She probably thought it was supposed to be lumpy like that. Lizzie stirred hers and did little else to it except let it drip from her spoon back into the bowl once in a while.

Meanwhile, it seemed like everyone was watching Casey, like they'd never seen her eat before. Took her a minute to notice, and when she did, she talked with her mouth full, so he had just no idea what she said. It was probably something along the lines of "don't you have anything better to do?"

Of course, nobody did. Heads shook.

Casey finished the little bit of goo and some juice. She let Smarti take her pulse, and then told everyone to keep back while she checked Casey for bugs. At least that's what Derek _thought_ she said.

"No more flu bug," Marti said.

"Maybe it flew away?" Edwin said. Marti laughed. Nobody else did.

Derek was just getting back into the sports section when Casey got up suddenly. Her hand was over her mouth and she was heading toward the stairs. Derek, as the closest, got up and grabbed her around the shoulders, leading her back to the sink. As someone who'd done a good amount of puking in his time, Derek knew better than to think she'd make it all the way up to the bathroom. She struggled a little against him and shook her head, but couldn't put up that much of a fight or even say much before she lost the battle...and her breakfast. He grabbed her hair and moved it back, but otherwise looked away. He could still feel her heaving, though. When she stopped, he looked back at her.

"Okay?" he asked. She took a couple of deep breaths and then started yarking again. She didn't even eat that much. He held on to her through some pretty nasty dry heaves until she was finally done. It was then that he thought to see what everyone else was doing and found them alone in the kitchen. Dad and Nora had, he found out a minute or so later, taken the others out of the room, worried about the ever popular chain reaction barf. So it was just them in the room. He ran the faucet to clean up the mess and wet a paper towel for her to wipe her face.

This had been total autopilot. His brain didn't turn on until he realized that she was done throwing up and he got a good look at her red face and streaming eyes. She was all embarrassed and wouldn't look at him, so he finally had the presence of mind to let go of her. By the time Nora came in and got her, the two of them were practically at opposite sides of the kitchen.

He folded his arms just to have something to do with them. He was supposed to be leaving for hockey practice in a few minutes, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. She felt a little hot, so her fever had gone up again.

Dad came down after a minute or two. "Ready to go?" he signed.

"Yeah," Derek signed. "How's she doing?"

"She's miserable," Dad signed. "I got kicked out of the room."

Derek nodded.

"Her fever is up again," George signed.

Derek nodded again, a little worried about what his Dad was going to do. He was worried about Casey, a little, too, but mostly he wanted to avoid a Dad freakout if he could.

"So what do we do now?" Derek signed.

"I'm gonna watch some hockey practice," George signed.

Derek nodded and got his stuff. He was kind of proud of his Dad. He was going against his usual hover-y instincts. His Dad was actually making an effort here and it was amazing.

They got to the rink for practice and Dad took a seat in the bleachers. Derek could see him checking his phone and knew that he'd be doing a lot of that.

"How's she doing," Sam signed by way of greeting.

"Remember_ The Exorcist_? The pea soup?" Derek signed. Sam cringed. "But she'll be okay," Derek signed.

"How's your Dad holding up?"

"He's here," Derek signed. "In the bleachers."

"No way!"

"Probably Nora's idea," Derek signed. "But he actually went with it."

Derek Venturi was usually perfectly confident with a hockey stick in his hand. But during practice on that day, Derek couldn't help but be self-conscious. It certainly wasn't the first time his Dad had watched him play, but the responsibility of Showing His Dad that Everything Was All Right weighed heavily on his shoulders. It messed with his concentration a little bit and people kept getting the puck away from him.

After an hour or so of this, Gary, his other interpreter, signaled that Derek needed to get his ass to the locker room. The team gathered in there to get bawled out. Coach Kaminski even used the couple of signs that Derek and Sam had taught him (Moron, Loser, Nitwit, Spastic, Hopeless, Little Girl Monkeys) much to the amusement of everyone in the room. Coach always felt better after he let a few insults fly.

"I'm gonna buy you a bunch of pink velvet bows for your hair!" Coach continued. "Especially for you, Venturi. It's getting long enough."

"Okay, schmucks," Coach said. Poor Gary, unable to think of the proper sign for it, had had to spell the word out. "Hit the showers, change up, and fuck off. Play better tomorrow."

On their way toward the bleachers, Sam, in front of Gary, made sure that he mentioned the play auditions at the end of the week.

"Oooh," Gary said. "Are you gonna need one of us?"

"I'm not trying out," Derek said, shooting Sam a dirty look.

Gary nodded like he didn't really believe him. What was it with people thinking that they knew what he was going to do before he did it?

"Whatever you decide, make sure you reserve someone by Wednesday at least," Gary signed. Derek nodded and signed that he understood. Even though he _wasn't_ trying out. Gary said his goodbyes and excused himself.

"What's this about auditions?" Dad signed. "You're going to do it, too?"

"No," Derek signed.

"Yes," Sam signed. "He is."

"Casey will be surprised," Dad signed.

"Nobody's telling Casey!" Derek said, startling everyone.

"Sorry," Derek said. "But no. Why does everybody think I'm doing it? I never said I was."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "You know you want to. You can't resist. Rehearse at my house, or Ralph's. She doesn't have to find out until Friday."

Dad was still looking at him with way too much interest. "Could be fun," Dad signed. "Theater girls."

Derek stared at him.

"Your mother was in the Drama Club," Dad signed.

"Really?" Sam signed, grinning. "What about Nora?"

"I think so," Dad signed. "You meet great women, is all I'm saying."

Derek shuddered. The old joke flashed in his mind: "I don't want good women. I want Cas—" But he stopped himself before he articulated what he wanted. He didn't want to say it, even in his own mind.

Desperate to change the subject after Sam left and Dad was still on about the audition, Derek asked. "What's for dinner?"

"Well, somebody ate all the leftover pizza," Dad signed.

"What else do you eat for breakfast?" Derek signed.

"I made all that farina," Dad signed.

"Nobody will ever eat that stuff again," Derek signed.

"Probably not," Dad signed. "So what should we get?"

"More pizza," Derek signed.

Derek and his father took their time getting home that night. They knocked around renting videos, actually remembering to pick up dry cleaning, eating donuts before they picked up some frozen shepherd's pie thing for dinner. Dad was trying to prove that he could be calm even though he knew there was a sick kid in the house, even giving Derek his phone so that he wouldn't be tempted to call home. Derek wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to prove it to—Derek or himself.

Derek texted Nora to check up while his Dad was in the bathroom at the donut place.

_She's asleep_, Nora texted. _How's your Dad?_

_Not too bad_, Derek sent back, though Dad was showing signs of phone withdrawal.

In the end, as they walked back toward the car, Derek handed Dad's phone back to him.

"We're almost home," Dad said. "I don't need to call."

"I called," Derek said.

"Yeah?"

"Yep," Derek said. "All's cool."

"See?" Dad said. "_Told _you there was nothing to worry about."

Part Four: Sam.

Casey didn't make it back to school until Tuesday and when she did come back, she was was in overdrive.

"Breathe, Casey," Emily kept saying.

"Can't," Casey said. "Missed too much school." This was typical Casey.

Casey," Sam said. "Nothing ever happens around here. You kept up with the homework right?"

"Yeah," she said. "I even read ahead in English and Bio."

It would have been an inappropriate time to laugh at her, so he took a deep breath. "So what are you worried about?"

"I feel so disoriented," Casey said. "And I sound like an old lady who smokes four packs a day."

"You do _not_," Sam lied.

Emily shook her head.

"You're lying," Casey said.

"It's sexy," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Sexy phlegm?" Sam tried. Emily snorted.

Casey laughed, before she hit him.

"Never thought I'd say this," Casey said. "But I'm happy it's not a musical."

"Wow," Sam said.

"What?"

"I never thought you'd say that either," Sam said.

"Ha-ha," Casey said.

"So," Sam said. "You're actually nervous?"

"Li'l bit," Emily said.

"Extremely" Casey said.

So Derek, as expected, spent a lot of time at Sam's.

By Tuesday, Derek had two of the monologues memorized. Also as expected.

By Wednesday, Sam had them memorized too. Both in English and ASL.

"I'm going to be hearing this crap in my sleep," Sam muttered.

"Your own fault," Derek signed, before he took an epic swig of grape kool aid. "You're the one who keeps making me do these things over and over. Shoulda listened to Casey when she said you were a slavedriver."

"Like you didn't already know," Sam signed.

"Why am I even doing this?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Nobody's putting a gun to your head." Although that did give him a good idea. He knew that his old watergun was around there somewhere.

Sam's sisters always stopped what they were doing when Derek was over. Jennifer liked to make fun of him almost as much as Sam did. He thought maybe Danielle just liked to look at him. That was a little disturbing.

The fact that Derek actually put up with all of this really told Sam something. Derek was a ham, always had been. Maybe wouldn't have tried out for this play without Casey's involvement, but Derek Venturi was all about the spotlight. Whenever they talked about the short films they eventually hoped to make, there was no question about who was starring in them. Not Sam, not Ralph (though Ralph was often promised a small part if he chipped in for pizza), just Derek.

Casey being in the play was an added push to get him into it, though.

On Thursday, Sam had Lana come over get an unbiased opinion. They needed to find out whether someone who didn't know Derek as well as Sam did and who wasn't completely used to his speech could still understand him. Sam made her stand at different points in the house while Derek practiced. For a few minutes, he even made them stand at opposite ends of the backyard. For this exercise, Derek had to say something and then Lana had to repeat it. Neither of them were happy with that. It was windy and both of them thought Sam was being Casey-ish.

"Last thing, I promise," Sam said.

"Better be," Derek said. "Or else I could just bury you in the woods back there. Nobody'd find you."

"Want me to repeat that?" Lana asked, grinning at him.

"Nah," Sam said. "I can take a hint," he signed to Derek.

"No you can't," Derek signed back. He walked over to where Sam and Lana were standing. "If you could take a hint," Derek said, "you would have stopped half an hour ago. And you would have brought your very cold best friend some coffee."

Lana whacked his arm, lightly.

"And your girlfriend."

Lana nodded.

"So you're saying it's quitting time?" Sam asked.

"Yes, Sam, that's what I was getting at," Derek said. He was starting to slur his S's, so it really was time to stop before Derek fell over from exhaustion.

Derek turned to Lana. "Keep him out of trouble?"

"Okay," she said. "Who's gonna keep me out of trouble?"

"Can't expect me to think of everything," Derek said.

When Derek was gone, Sam led Lana inside where it was warm and there were cookies.

"So, what do you think?"

"He'll nail it," she said. "He's _The_ Derek Venturi."

"Yeah."

"And he has the best acting coach ever," she said.

"You do not have to flatter your boyfriend to get cookies you know," Sam said.

"I know," she said.

"But it helps," he said. He stole a couple of kisses before his sisters could see what he was up to.


	36. Chapter 36

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Part One: Lizzie.

Parents sometimes like to tell the story of the first time they put their kids on a school bus or the first time they walk the kids to a classroom and leave them there. In Lizzie's experience it always seems like the parents say things about how hard it was to see the kids growing up and how even though it was a good thing, a normal thing, they wished they could avoid it.

Parents didn't often talk about how relieved they were to be rid of the little monsters so they could have some peace.

This was the feeling that Lizzie herself had on Friday morning when Casey (And Derek) were finally out of the house. The three minutes or so before she, Edwin, and Marti had to pile into Mom's car were the most peaceful that Lizzie'd had in days.

It was her own fault, she'd gotten a reputation for giving good criticism. If she'd had sense, she'd be more like Derek. No one in their right mind would _ever_ ask Derek for his opinion, honest or otherwise. But Lizzie had no sense, so she was the one to watch Casey rehearse for her audition and be all encouraging and stuff.

So Lizzie spent a lot of time reading the monologues that Casey had to study, and out of curiosity, she flipped through and read the boy monologues, too. This is how she caught Derek rehearsing by himself in his room.

Wednesday night, Lizzie was actively trying to avoid Casey and so began to scope out good hiding spots. She knew she wouldn't be safe in her own room, so she'd been thinking about the games closet when she heard Casey coming. So, finding Derek's door unlocked, she slid in. He was pacing back and forth, pretty absorbed in what he was doing, so he didn't notice her at first. When he did, she gave him a scared rabbit look and signed:

"Hide me!"

He raised his eyebrows in question.

"Casey's coming!" she signed. "Hide me!"

He nodded and went over to lock his door, but not before Casey got it open a crack.

"Can I help you?" he asked. He blocked the doorway with his body so that she couldn't see in, but Lizzie hid under his covers just in case.

"Have you seen Lizzie?" Casey asked.

"Nope," he said. "Did you check the games closet?"

"First place I looked."

"Ed's room?"

_Nooo_, Lizzie thought. _Don't inflict her on Edwin!_

"No," Casey said.

Next thing Lizzie knew, Derek was pulling the covers off of her.

"What did you do?" he signed, grinning.

"Nothing," she signed. "I..." she had to struggle to explain this because she didn't know the signs for "audition," "monologue," or "torture," and they both needed to be quiet, otherwise she'd be found out.

Finally, she signed: "I don't want to listen to her anymore!"

Derek smiled. He got it. He flipped the lock on his door in case she came back. "Okay. No problem."

She would have hugged him if she thought he'd let her. But then she remembered something.

"You sent her to Edwin!"

"He's at Teddy's house," Derek signed.

"What if she goes to Marti?"

"Don't worry about Smarti," he signed. "She'll get away. Or she'll pretend to fall asleep while Casey's talking."

Lizzie relaxed again.

"What were you doing just now?" she signed.

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"You always talk to yourself?"

"Everybody does it," he signed. "People don't always catch me at it when my door is closed."

"Are you sure you weren't doing the—" again she struggled for a word. "The thing...on page three."

He paled. Derek Venturi turned _pale_. She couldn't wait to tell Edwin.

"I don't know what you mean," he signed.

"No?" Lizzie slipped by him and got the folded piece of paper from his desk where he hadn't had a chance to hide it yet. He gave her the murderous look he usually reserved for Edwin and made a grab for her.

"I won't tell!" she signed.

"Yeah, right," he signed.

"You hide me and I keep the secret," she signed. He had to know that they were uniting, at least for a minute, against a common enemy and that had to have some appeal for him. Of course this meant that she couldn't tell Edwin. _Dangit_.

_Does Edwin count? _She wondered. Then she decided that he did. A promise was a promise.

He narrowed his eyes and stared at her, probably trying to decide if he should come clean or keep denying what he was doing even though Lizzie had the evidence in her hand.

"So you're gonna do the play?" she signed.

"I don't know," he signed. "I didn't try out yet."

"You're gonna sign in it?"

"Mrs. Z. told me to," he signed. "She said to be ready to both talk and sign."

"At the same time?"

"No."

"I wanna see."

"You just ran from Casey!" he signed. "Doing the same thing!"

"She made me watch her do it five times today," Lizzie signed. "You do it just once, okay?"

He laughed. Then, he shook his head.

"_Once_," she repeated. Then she gave him the puppy face, knowing that it always worked on him, knowing he'd be flattered.

So he showed her the monologue about the kid who was trying to tell his parents what happened to the car, that, _of course_ he didn't crash it. The entire front end got crumbled because somebody hit it in the driveway.

"'And they didn't even leave a note,'" Derek signed.

He was a natural. She had her hands pressed up against her mouth to muffle the laughter. Afterward, she asked if he was doing any other monologues, and he said that he was. But he couldn't sign the other one, which meant he couldn't do it for her without other people (Casey) hearing it.

"So?" he signed.

"What?"

"You telling me you have nothing to say?" he signed. He knew her better than that.

Lizzie thought for a minute. "You're signing too fast. That's what you always do when you lie, so that's good, but slow it down just a tiny bit. Or you'll make people dizzy."

"Lie?" he signed. "Me?"

That made her laugh some more.

"That's it?" he signed.

"For now," she signed. "You're pretty good."

Just for that, she was allowed to mess around with his computer for a little while.

The next day, Thursday, Derek looked exhausted, saying exactly four words at dinner:

"Huh?" he said. "No, nothing's wrong."

Then he signed something about Sam making him study and being tired. Mom and George seemed to buy it.

Casey, however, was even worse than she'd been the night before, running around like Marti on a chocolate high. After dinner, she tried to give everyone an advance performance. Derek straight up ignored her and went upstairs. Mom and George made up something about work they had to do in the bedroom. Marti hid.

Casey cornered Lizzie and Edwin. But then Edwin rescued Lizzie by doing something really evil.

"Um, Casey?" Edwin said.

"Yeah? What?" Casey said. "What is it?"

"You know how your voice is back to normal, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Casey said. "Your point?"

"Do you really wanna overwork it?" Edwin asked. "You probably won't lose it, but you might go back to sounding like...well...like me after I try to do the cookie monster."

Casey narrowed her eyes at him, knowing a tactic when she heard one, but after she stopped to think for a second...

"Dammit," she said, tossing the script thingee down, then picking it up and stomping upstairs.

Lizzie threw her arms around Edwin.

"That was the coolest thing you've ever done!" Lizzie said.

"Coolest thing ever?" Edwin said. "Dunno about that. Maybe top ten."

"Whatever," Lizzie said. "You got her to give it a rest. That's all that matters."

And Casey did give it a rest, until morning when she did vocal exercises at breakfast. She was lucky to be alive.

Part Two: Casey.

Casey both loved and hated auditions. She wanted to fast forward to the moment when she was in the middle of her own tryout, the moment when her instincts took over and everything was okay. Then she could relax and watch everyone else. Everything leading up to that moment was a stomach-churning, hand-shaking mess.

"How you holding up?" Wendall said, nudging her.

"Okay," she lied. She was worrying a little charm dohickee on her bag until it broke off in her hand. They were cheap tin things that clanked together as she walked anyway, so she wasn't upset.

Wendall smiled at her and moved over a couple inches, afraid that he was in for the same treatment.

"Why are you so calm?" Casey accused.

Wendall held up his hands. "Jeez!" he said. "Casey! You told me you'd done this before."

"I have," she said. "I just really really _hate_ this part." And there went another jingly geegaw from the handle of her bag.

Wendall cleared his throat. "I can see that."

"I'll be okay when I get up there."

"So this is just part of your process?" Wendall asked.

"I guess," Casey asked. "But I'm open to any new process-type things you can suggest, because my family wants to kill me and if I wanna keep doing theater, I can't be like this."

"Okay," Wendall said. "Lemme show you what I do."

He hopped off of his folding chair. Casey followed suit. Her chair clattered and it echoed through the gym, making her wince and everybody in there turn toward her.

"Sorry," she said.

"Do this," Wendall said, holding his right hand, palm up, in front of him. She obeyed.

"Now do this," he said, doing the same with his left hand. After that, he put his right hand on his left shoulder. By the time he put his left hand on his right shoulder, she hit him because she realized he was showing her the Macarena.

"You caught onto that way faster than people usually do," Wendall said.

"You're disappointed?"

"Yeah! I was hoping we'd get to shake it a little," Wendall said, demonstrating.

"Where do you even get stuff like this?"

"_Real Genius_," he said. "Except I think they did the cha-cha."

"Macarena is better," she agreed.

"Now how do you feel?"

"Good," Casey said. She gave him a little sideways hug.

"You're _welcome_," Wendall said. She rolled her eyes and thanked him, mechanically.

"So what do you really do to loosen up?" Casey asked.

"That," Wendall said. "Silly shit. Like—" He shook himself like a dog.

"Oo—kay," Casey said, taking a step away from him.

"C'mon! It's a theater thing," he said. "You're supposed to be open and uninhibited and in the moment, and other cliches like that."

She was about to say something wiseass back to him, but that was when Derek walked in and all thought left her head.

"Oh my God, he actually came," Wendall said.

"Oh my God, he actually came," Casey said, in a completely different, more horrified, way.

"Didn't you say you tried to recruit him?"

"Yeah, but he said he wasn't gonna do it!"

"I guess he changed his mind," Wendall said. "Wanna explain to me why this is suddenly a bad thing?"

"Oh my God, Oh my God, ohmyGOD!" Casey said.

"Do you need some help? A paper bag?" Wendall asked. Casey nodded. He left, then came back a minute later with a bag for her to breathe into. It smelled like brownies.

"I don't get it," Wendall said. "Do you think he's gonna make fun of you or something?"

"Yes," she said. _Of course_ he was going to make fun of her. He'd make fun of her even if she were the best actress in the world. The problem wasn't what he'd say. The problem was what he'd _think_. If she bombed in front of him, she just wouldn't be able to go home again, that was all.

"Right on schedule," a voice, thankfully not Derek's, said behind her. "How ya doing, Case?"

"Sam!" Casey squeaked. "You too?"

"Me too, what?" he asked.

"You're trying out?"

"Oh _hell_ no," Sam said.

"Moral support?" Wendall asked.

"Yeah, okay. That works." Sam said. "And Derek's interpreter canceled. Didn't wanna leave him hanging."

"Awww," Casey said.

"Yeah, what_ever_," Sam said. "Derek was all 'ohh that's okay. Go ahead and leave me here all alone. Don't mind me.' And I don't do well with guilt."

"Emotional warfare," Casey said. "It's a family trait." She explained what Edwin had said to her the night before.

Sam laughed.

"Hey!"

"You'll think it's funny later," Sam said. "Trust me, Case."

He was right, but she wasn't about to admit it.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go make sure Derek doesn't run," Sam said, nodding over to Derek.

"See? He's freaking out, too," Wendall said.

"An understatement," Sam said. "So, break a leg." He kissed Casey on the cheek and fist-bumped Wendall. Wendall proved that he was not built for fist-bumping.

Mrs. Zeldin came in after a couple more minutes and made a few announcements. She passed out slips of paper that everyone was supposed to put their names on so that she could pull them out of a hat. There was a point where people stopped looking at her and started looking at Sam who signed to Derek. Poor Sam. He would have given anything to hide right then, not getting that his shyness only made him cuter. Casey laughed at the thought of telling him that.

Part Three: Sam.

After Mrs. Z. called the first girl to the stage, Derek, slipped away to throw up. It never failed. Sam handed him a piece of gum when he came back, but otherwise didn't comment.

Sam amused himself by watching people screw up their lines. Derek kept his head down, almost glued to the script, which, Sam could tell, he wasn't even reading. It looked like Derek was staring into space, actually.

Sam nudged him when it was Casey's turn to audition. He didn't hold out much hope that Derek would pick his head up, but then he did.

_Should've known_, Sam thought. Casey nailed both of her monologues, of course, and both boys watched her, transfixed. Sam wasn't so sucked in, though, that he couldn't tell that everyone else was laughing in the right places and liking her just as much as Derek, and to a lesser extent, Sam himself did. She skipped off the stage like Marti, another move that amused the hell out of Derek, but he stifled the laugh before anyone further away could hear it.

Another guy that Sam didn't know was next. Once onstage, the kid introduced himself as Noel Covington and started to do one of the same scenes that Derek was planning to do—the one about the kid crashing the parents' car and lying about it. Derek, thankfully was still not paying attention, having gone from staring at his script to picking at a piece of tape on the chair in front of him, so there was no way he'd noticed what the other kid was doing. Sam felt disloyal laughing as much as he did. He pretended he was coughing, but Derek wasn't fooled.

"One day," Derek signed. "I'll teach you how to lie. If it's the last thing I do."

Sam smirked.

"I don't know how you survived this long without being able to lie," Derek signed.

"We don't all have your gift," Sam signed.

"Okay," Mrs. Zeldin said from up front. "Next we have...Derek Venturi!" In another life, this woman had to have been an announcer on a game show, Sam was sure of it.

Sam cocked his head toward the stage and said, "You're up."

Derek's eyes widened just a little and he looked over to see Mrs. Z. staring right at him. He got up, rattling his chair on the way, and tried to look cool as he made the long walk to the stage.

It was a few seconds before Sam remembered that he was supposed to go with him. Derek looked behind him wondering where the hell Sam was right as he was getting up.

Everybody watched Derek, but that wasn't unusual. This was one of those situations where it's normal for him to be the center of attention. The weird thing was that Sam, as the dork who was following Derek for no apparent reason, felt eyes on _him_, too. This wasn't something he was happy with.

_Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip_, Sam thought. When he finally got to the front, Derek was already up on the stage. Mrs Z. patted the seat next to her.

"Is this a good spot?" Sam signed. Derek gave him thumbs up.

Derek went with the spoken piece first. It was about a guy who had to talk his girlfriend out of packing her stuff and leaving him. There was a prop door off to one side and Derek wheeled it over and set it up centerstage, since the scene called for him to talk to a closed door.

He started by walking across the stage and stopping suddenly in front of the door, like someone had shut it in his face. It got a laugh.

"Terri," Derek said. "Terri, come on, you don't really wanna lock me out of there, do you?" He rattled the knob a little bit.

"Okay," Derek said. "Looks like you do..."

Bigger laugh. The whole thing was four, maybe five minutes long at the most, but Derek went from joking around, to wheedling, to making half the girls in the gym cry. Including Casey.

"Okay?" Derek asked when it was over.

"Very much okay," Mrs. Zeldin said. "Start the other one whenever you're ready."

Then she turned to Sam and asked him to read the part out loud while Derek was signing it. Sam hadn't even thought to prepare for that.

_Gawd_, Sam thought. _Will this day ever end?_ But at least this monologue was shorter.

"The car?" Sam read as Derek signed. "Funny story..."

Sam read the thing robotically, his voice wobbling embarrassingly once in a while as he noticed people drifting closer to where he was sitting. They did this because they wanted to watch Derek a little more closely, and because they plain couldn't hear Sam. And it wasn't lost on him that most of the same kids didn't have to strain as much to hear Derek's voice as they had to hear Sam's.

When it was finally over, after the whoops from the girls died down, Mrs Z. thanked both of them and called the next kid up to the stage. Derek slumped down next to Sam.

"That wasn't so bad," Derek signed.

Sam smirked at him, wondering how many cell numbers Derek would be getting out of this.

Part Four: Mrs. Zeldin.

Katie Zeldin's husband was chopping celery when she burst into their apartment. He just missed his right index finger with the knife.

"Matt! Ask me how auditions went!" she singsonged.

"How'd they go?" Matt asked, coming into the living room.

"Amazingly," she said, putting her stuff down. "Perfectly," she said, wiggling out of her jacket. "Wonderfully!"

"That's a lot of adverbs," Matt said.

"Should I have gone with superlative adjectives?" Katie said. "Best, coolest, rockingest..."

"Okay, " Matt said. He put his arms around her and pecked her on the mouth. "_Rocking_est?"

"I work with teenagers," she said. "You're lucky I don't add 'izzle' to the ends of things."

"I don't think that's exactly how that works, Katie," Matt said.

"Which is why you should not make fun of me for saying 'rockingest,'" she said.

He let that go. "So? Why was it so great?"

"We actually got some new blood," she said. "And not only that—"

He pecked her again. "What else?"

"Well," she said. "We somehow managed to snag one of the most popular kids in the school. Derek Venturi. He's on the hockey team. I don't know if he's just chasing girls or if he's really and truly discovered his inner thespian, but we got him, and he was gooood."

"Totally chasing girls," Matt said.

"Probably," she said. "Kid's got charisma for miles. And he wasn't even the only one. There was another boy, and a couple of girls."

"How 'bout the usuals?"

"We got Wendall again,"she said. "And Lisa. No Shawna this time around, but this new girl, Casey McDonald. She's another one of those kids, ya know? She got as great a response as Derek did."

"Okay," he said, "Sounds like things are picking up then?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I just need to get started on all the logistical stuff now."

"Anything I can help with?"

"I'll let you know," she said.

After the official auditions ended, Katie saw something that made casting at least one of the pieces easier. Or harder, depending on the way you looked at it. She saw Derek and Casey trading insults and playfully nudging each other on their way out of the gym. This, in itself was nothing new, the kids' chemistry was obvious, but the thing that Katie had not noticed before was the fact that Miss Casey knew how to sign, at least a little bit. That meant that Katie was going to be putting them in one of the plays together.

She expected a little bit of friction from the two of them when they saw the cast lists posted, but she was fully prepared to defend the decision.


	37. Chapter 37

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Seven.

Part One: Casey.

Monday morning Casey all but ran to the bulletin board, before she even went to her locker. She took Emily along for moral support. Or dragged her along. One of those.

"I can't look!" Casey said, turning away at the last minute.

"Yes you can," Emily said. "You will look and then you will let go of me so I can go to the bathroom." Emily waggled her arm and Casey realized for the first time that she was cutting off her best friend's circulation. She loosened her grip. A little.

Casey turned her head toward the bulletin board once again, showing just enough hesitation for Emily to yell "Casey!"

"Okay! Okay!" Casey said, finally looking. "I'm in."

"Yep," Emily said, grinning at her.

"I'm in!" Casey repeated, hopping in place. Emily wasn't much in the mood to hop with her.

"See you in a few," Emily said, slipping away.

"No problem," Casey said.

A couple of other theater types came by and nudged her out of the way so it was a minute before she saw who she was partnered with. She'd assumed she'd end up with Wendall, so she didn't look twice at the list. Until.

"Casey Mc_Donald_? Who the hell's Casey McDonald?" Some girl said.

"Ahem," Casey replied.

"Water fountain's over _there_," the girl said, pointing.

"I'm Casey McDonald," Casey said.

"Oh," the girl said, looking her over disdainfully.

"Was there any reason you asked, or do you have to make that face a certain number of times every day to make your quota?" Casey asked.

Casey, being Casey, was immediately horrified that she'd said that out loud. This girl looked like a puncher. Casey was barely a hair puller.

_This is going to hurt_, she thought. _I should be running. Like now. Any time now would be a good time to take a powder._

"Mreowrrr," somebody or other said. Meany McMeanypants was glaring at her, but the daggervision was broken by her friend, who got between them.

"Don't mind Cindy," the friend said. "You just got the part she wanted."

"Shut it, Jenna" Cindy said.

"Not to mention the co-star," Jenna said. Cindy glared at her.

"Hmm?" Casey asked. That was when she finally thought to look. "Who—"

_Oh God,_ she thought. _Please...that is not what I saw. I am not partnered with—_

"Derek Venturi," she muttered to herself. She'd been on the verge of hyperventilating _before_, but now this was red alert.

"Yep," Jenna said, laughing at the look on Casey's face and patting her shoulder. "You get to work with Mr. Hottie. Merry Christmas."

"Jenna!" Cindy said, pausing in the middle of her dramatic exit.

"I'm coming," Jenna said, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry about Cindy. She just...um...has her moments."

"If you could call it that," Casey said, her mouth running once again without any input from her actual brain. She did a lot of that in the next couple of hours. She gave her teachers several answers when called on, but had no idea of what she was saying. There was no focusing on anything that anyone said to her. What she had was really just a couple of thoughts on a loop: _Oh my God Oh my God Oh My God _ran for a little while. Then she worried about whether he'd seen the list yet. She took a peek at him in English and he wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, so she guessed not. There'd be hell to pay when he saw it. _Or maybe not,_ she thought. Her Dad had a pet saying about not getting headaches because he gave them. Derek was just like that. He wouldn't sit there dithering about how Casey would react to having to act with _him_. He'd just quit. No fuss, no muss. He'd flick her off like a bug and go on his merry little way.

This did not make her feel better.

She didn't really spend much time on how _she_ felt about being in a play opposite Derek. That was simple. He'd be a holy terror, but he'd be talented. She was pretty talented herself. But there was no way in Hell she was going to admit that she might like to try working with him, because there was no way in Hell he wanted to work with _her_.

_And who does he think he is, rejecting me out of hand like that?_ She thought. _And in front of everybody!_ The fact that he hadn't actually said or done _anything_ didn't matter. Because in her head, he was being really mean. She wanted to tell him off, but even she knew how nuts that was, so she just avoided him instead.

Part Two: Derek.

Did Derek panic? No, he did not.

Not even a little.

Well, okay. Maybe he did for a second. When he saw his name right above Casey's, his heart did a couple of things that hearts probably weren't meant to do. First of all, the two of them would be on their own, carrying the whole piece. Second...it was with _Casey_. Which meant that he was somehow going to have to convince her, not to mention the audience at large, that he had some talent in this area.

He was hard pressed to remember what it was that made him want to do this acting thing to begin with. By Monday afternoon, all he'd been able to come up with was a little empty flattery that Mrs. Zeldin had tossed his way. That, coupled with his usual craving for attention made him do stupid things. Why should this be any different?

Mrs. Zeldin called a meeting later that day. Casey wouldn't look at him. At least, he reasoned, he hadn't come in on her begging Mrs. Zeldin to _put her with anyone else_. Not that he didn't think she'd do it in private later, if given the chance. He didn't blame her.

Mrs. Zeldin waved them all over, making them arrange their chairs into a circle. Casey sat as far away from Derek as possible, next to a skinny kid who was too busy wrestling with his backpack to notice her at first. But then he did, and it was all over for him. Casey didn't notice, but Derek sure did, because he was watching her just as closely. He tried to tell himself that it was for different reasons, but he was interrupted by Christine, thumping his arm to get his attention.

"Introduce yourself," Christine signed. "We don't have all day."

_Oops_, he thought. "Hey," he said, waving. Like a dork. "I'm Derek."

Another poke. "And who are you playing?" Christine prompted.

"I'm playing Jay..." he said, looking at Christine to see if there was anything else before she broke his rib.

"Name of play?" Christine signed. She was just one in a long line of women who liked to watch him squirm.

"In _The Bedroom Door_," he said. Then, finally they moved on to Wendall and Derek felt free to drift again. Until Christine moved her chair closer to him and informed him that he'd be tested on everyone's name later.

The skinny kid who was next to Casey was named Noel Covington. The name was way too big for him. It was a name right out of one of those novels Casey liked, the cheap ones with the foil letters on the covers, not the ones with the pictures of shoes and shopping bags. A kid with that name should be riding horses while wearing puffy shirts. Instead, he was slouching in his folding chair, wearing a beat up t-shirt with a leprechaun on it under an equally beat up hoodie.

Casey was next, introducing herself and trying her damnedest to come off calm and altogether unCaseylike.

"I'm going to playing Terri in _The Bedroom Door,_" she said. Somebody asked her something and she answered,"Yup. With _Derek_." He could read her lips even with her teeth clenched.

He grinned at her. "Love you too," he signed.

"Long walk. Short pier," she signed back, with her best shark smile. This was much more like it. Insults were always better than the avoidance thing that she'd been doing all day.

The look of evil she'd just sent Derek's way should have been a signal to that poor Noel kid that the chick was crazy and to run while he still had the chance, but somehow, he seemed even more into her. The signing thing just made her sexier. Even if she did look like she might bite.

Derek guessed he knew the feeling.

Christine tapped him again. _Dammit_, he thought reluctantly coming back to earth.

"Derek," Christine translated for Mrs. Z. "Why don't you and Casey teach the group a couple of signs? As a bonding exercise."

_As a what, now? _He thought. _What kind of dork does this woman take me for? _

Christine, of course, thought this was the best idea ever.

"Go ahead, Derek," she signed. "Stand up, so everyone can see you."

He narrowed his eyes at her, but then noticed that Casey was already standing and he didn't want to look like some sort of wuss, so he got up.

"Okay," he said. "What do you wanna know?"

Mrs. Zeldin knew exactly what she wanted. "Make magic happen," she said.

Derek suppressed a groan, then turned to Casey. "You wanna?"

"What's the sign for 'magic'?" Casey asked.

Derek shook his head like she was hopeless.

"Shut up!" she said.

"Magic," he said, signing it. It was a total "alakazam!" gesture, taking both hands and balling them into fists before opening them up again. Casey nodded in a "why didn't I think of that?" sort of way.

"Okay," she said, imitating him.

"Do you need help with the rest?" he asked Casey. He signed "Princess?" before she could do anything else.

He was expecting a lot more violence from her than he actually got. She put her hand on the side of his head and shoved. Then she took over, like he knew she would.

"Make magic happen," she signed, having everybody follow. People seemed okay with it, or at least, nobody seemed as openly reluctant as Derek himself. He even saw an enthusiastic kid here and there. And then, of course, there was Noel.

_If Casey told this one to pour ketchup on his sneaker and eat it, he would_, Derek thought. _Maybe even without the ketchup. _This was neither funny nor cute, the way he was looking at Casey like she was a new shiny thingee that he needed to have right that second. Derek knew that feeling too, knew that the shine had yet to wear off for _him_, probably wouldn't wear off for a while. So he understood, but he still did not approve.

He didn't go through this every time a guy looked at her. Guys always looked at her. It was just the ones who might actually have a shot that made him itchy. Tinker Tomlin didn't bother him, nor did Max Miller (_She's not gonna go for a dead fish like him_, Derek figured.) Sam was practically his brother so he didn't count...much. He thought he'd managed to suppress most of his evil, jealous instincts around Sam, figuring the best man won. He trusted Sam, at least. This kid he didn't know anything about.

He tried not to dwell on it too much though, mostly because Christine would be merciless if he lost the thread of the conversation again.

Before splitting them up into groups, Mrs. Zeldin spent some time gushing over seeing "new faces" and being able to do some work with "two languages." She was being sincere, and something about how excited the woman looked stopped him from rolling his eyes at the "two languages" bit. He just hoped that she wasn't the type to make people stand around and mirror each other, or pretend to be a tree or something. There were only so many things he was willing to do for attention, pretending to be trapped in a box was not one of them. Then she split them up according to the play they were doing and talked stuff over with each group in turn.

Casey sat down next to him, finally, but did her best to ignore him while they waited. He amused himself by playing a rousing game of "I'm Not Touching You" until she turned on him.

"Is it too much to ask that you not bug me?" she asked. "Do you really want everyone to know how immature you are?"

"What do you think?" he asked.

"This better be worth it," she said. "If it's not, I'm so gonna get you."

He laughed. "You're gonna, what? Slap me silly?"

"You really wanna find out? Keep bugging me," she said. It went against everything he believed in to pass up a challenge like that, so he did indeed continue to bug her, a little nudge here, a little eyecross there, while she was trying to look dignified and actressy. All she needed was a beret or something to complete the picture.

Christine, probably a little bored with this, patted him on the shoulder.

"If she beats you up," she signed. "I'm just gonna sit here and watch."

"I live to entertain you," Derek said.

"Right," Christine said. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she didn't. Instead, she started looking around the room to see what everyone else was doing. Derek decided that that was a good idea as any, so he followed her gaze.

What he saw was a whole bunch of people who seemed to have lost all sense of humor. One group was actually taking turns falling backward into each other's arms.

He nudged Casey and pointed to the kids he'd been watching. "Wanna try that?"

She rubbed the back of her head in anticipation. "No."

"Don't trust me?" he signed, poking out his lower lip.

"Do you trust _me_?" she signed. Then she held out her hands for him and it was obvious that she was just aching to let him fall on his ass. He laughed.

"Didn't think so," she said.

He turned back to Christine after a second and saw her nodding and laughing at something Mrs. Zeldin was saying. Casey, when he turned back to her, looked exasperated.

"What's she saying?" he signed.

Casey huffed. Derek was about to ask her again when Mrs. Zeldin herself turned toward Derek and Casey.

"I get the feeling you two are wondering why I put you together?" she said.

"Yeah," Casey said.

"Because of the signing," Derek said. It was obvious.

"The signing was part of it," Mrs. Zeldin said. "I'll give you that. But I could have put anyone with you and had you feed them a few signs, so they could fake it. It's not just that."

For a second, Derek actually worried that the woman was going to say something about his glaring crush on Casey in front of God, his interpreter, and the whole damn drama club. He'd been getting an awful lot of the "who are you kidding" speech lately. He knitted his eyebrows together in what he hoped was a look of confusion.

"What else could it possibly be?" Casey asked.

"Well," Mrs. Zeldin began. "The two of you are very natural on stage, two of the best I've seen in a while."

_Bullshit_, Derek thought. _Look at her thinking that she's gonna get me again with the empty flattery thing._

"The piece doesn't have any kissing, or even much physical contact between the leads," Mrs. Zeldin said. "So if that's what you two were worried about..."

Casey shook her head, eyes wide. _Lest anyone doubt her commitment to the theater,_ Derek thought. _Sure, you say that now, but if she told you there was kissing you would've gone nuclear. _

"Okay then," Mrs. Zeldin said. "So I'm putting my faith in the two of you to be professional—"

_Heheheehee_, Derek thought.

"And be the knockout performers that I know you can be," Mrs. Zeldin finished. "Now, can I count on you guys?"

There was a really long painful moment where Derek and Casey just looked at each other. Derek didn't want to be the first to speak, and, he figured, neither did Casey.

"I'm okay, if he's okay," Casey said, finally. "Because I _am_ such a professional."

"Derek?"

"I'm okay," he lied.

Part Three: Lizzie.

At the dinner table that night, Lizzie was in a gloating kind of mood. She and Edwin had been given a test in one of their classes. She'd aced it and Edwin had not.

"It didn't count or anything," Edwin said.

"It was still funny," Lizzie said. "We got this test paper and on top it said, 'Read all directions before taking this exam.'"

"I think I know where this is going," George said. "But go on."

"It was so bogus," Edwin said.

"So it had all these commands on it, like 'sign your name in the upper right hand corner,' and 'put the date directly under your name.' But then it said to do stuff like jump up and down and cluck like a chicken. And half the class was doing it..."

"Middle school rocks," Marti said. "I wanna go."

"No you don't," Edwin said.

"Finally, at the end of the test it said to disregard everything but the first two commands," Lizzie said. "So, Mr. Johannson starts laughing his head off and telling us that this is what happens when you don't read directions."

"You fell for that, Ed?" Derek asked.

"Shut up," Edwin said. "I don't know what you're laughing at, Master Thespian."

Marti giggled, but Lizzie would've bet that she had no idea why she was laughing. Meanwhile, Derek glared at Edwin and Casey picked at her tuna casserole, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh yeah," George said. He gave Derek a light poke. "Forgot all about that. So what part did you get?"

Derek told everybody which part he got in the fewest possible words, not looking at all enthusiastic about it. But if he looked unenthusiastic, Casey looked catatonic.

Mom asked if the look on Casey's face meant that she didn't get the part. Casey shook her head and said that she got a part.

"Okay," Mom said. "So spill! What'd you get?"

"I'm in the same play as Derek," she said, looking down at her plate.

Lizzie knew that there were only two characters in that play. Which meant...

"You're the _girlfriend_?" Lizzie blurted. Everybody looked at her, even Derek, after a beat, when he noticed everyone else turning. She put her hands over her mouth, ten seconds too late.

"The_ what_?" Mom asked.

"Oh God," Casey said.

"What?" Derek asked.

"Ooh," Marti said.

"Okay, so listen," Casey said. "All we do in the play is fight, and I get to slam the door in his face. Mrs. Zeldin put us together and pretty much said take it or leave it. So I took it."

Edwin turned to Lizzie and shook his head in disbelief. This was huge.

"So you're playing a fighting couple," George said.

"Yeah," Derek said. "All that bickering. Dunno why she picked us." That got Mom laughing and seemed to break the tension in general.

"'Least I got a couple of phone numbers out of it." Derek said.

"Sure," Casey said. "Isn't that why we _all_ get into the theater? Not looking for artistic expression or anything."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You telling me that Noel kid didn't try to get yours?"

Everybody turned to Casey.

"What are you talking about?" Casey asked. Derek smirked.

"Is he cute?" Mom asked, all interested.

"Which one was he?" Casey asked.

"_Burn_," Derek said.

"He's the really tall one, right?" Casey asked.

Derek shrugged.

"No," Casey said. "Now you gotta tell me."

"Do I?" Derek asked, grinning.

"Yes!" Casey said. "There was a guy and I didn't notice?"

_Yeah, that's a real shocker_, Lizzie thought.

"Unless you're just making this up so that I'll go up to him tomorrow and find out that he's gay or something," Casey said.

"What's gay mean?" Marti asked. Nobody wanted to touch that. It'd take three hours to explain.

"De-_rek_!" Casey said.

Derek said nothing, shoveling some casserole into his mouth instead. Casey's face got redder with every bite he took.

"Probably making it up," Casey muttered, going back to her own dinner.

Everybody watched the two of them for a minute to make sure that they didn't start up again.

When he was sure it was safe, George changed the subject, "There's a new Jamaican restaurant on Oak. I wanna try it this week, what do you think, Nora?"

After dinner, and after Lizzie and Edwin got stuck with the dishes again, Lizzie overheard Casey on the phone with Emily, trying to pick her brain about the guy Derek mentioned.

"But I don't get it Em," Casey said. "I thought you knew about every boy in the school. How could you not know about Noel Covington?"

"That's it?" Casey said, gesturing at nobody. "That's all you got? He's _quiet_? You realize that that's what they say about serial killers, right? Gonna tell me he's a loner, too?"

Lizzie thought that somebody really should get video of Casey on the phone at some point. With all the flailing and the faces she made, she said enough to tell most of the story.

"I'm not reading too much into anything, Emily," Casey said. "I'm just trying to keep my New Year's Resolution. What's so funny?"

"But I thought that the first step is admitting I have a problem," Casey said. That was when Lizzie alerted Casey to her presence. The laugh started as Edwin-esque puppy whimpers that she tried to conceal behind her hand, but then Casey turned around and tried to give her a dirty look and it turned to guffaws. The more Lizzie tried to conceal her laughter, the worse it got. It was like trying to suppress a sneeze.

Derek, if he'd caught Edwin eavesdropping, would have wasted no time in picking him up by the beltloops and tossing him out of the room. Casey wasn't even able to manage a proper Intimidating Look.

"It's not funny!" Casey said, laughing a little herself. Lizzie could hear Emily laughing over the phone.

"See ya tomorrow, Em," Casey said, hanging up. Then she tried the Intimidating Look again, with no more success.

"So? Are you gonna go after this boy?" Lizzie asked.

"I haven't even talked to him yet!" Casey said.

"But you wanna?" Lizzie said, sitting on Casey's bed.

"I'm curious," Casey said. "I mean, it's not like I'm about to take _Derek's_ word for it or anything,"

"Why not?" Lizzie said. Then she realized how stupid that question really was.

Casey raised her eyebrow.

"Point taken," Lizzie said.

"But this still might be a chance to meet a nice guy," Casey said. "I wanna check him out. There aren't too many guys in Drama Club."

_Guh_, Lizzie thought. It must be really exciting to be Casey. But then again Lizzie worried that Casey would never figure out who she was and how she affected people. All of this was wasted on her.

TBC.

A/N: Sorry for the wait.


	38. Chapter 38

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Eight.

Part One: Emily.

Emily promised Casey to research Noel on her behalf. She'd really meant to get right on it, but her parents had a thing to go to for her Mom's work and the job of watching Dimi fell to her. And, by extension, Sheldon. Dimi and Sheldon shared a talent for distracting Emily. First, they got her to watch _Robots_ on DVD for the umpteenth time. Then they got way too involved with the making of the English muffin pizzas for dinner. Next thing she knew, Emily, Dimi and Sheldon were sitting on the floor of Dimi's room, cutting out pictures of mammals for a collage he had to do. The cat held up the process by lying down across several magazines and then refusing to give them up when Emily tried to pull them out from under the beast.

Even after Dimi went to bed, Emily had a hard time concentrating on what she was supposed to be doing. She was crouched down by one of the lower bookshelves in the living room, trying to get hold of last year's yearbook which she could see plain as day, right under the big photo album with the crinkly cover. The problem was that Sheldon was sprawled on the rug, a few feet away, and Emily got that feeling that she always got when she saw the cat in a patch of sunlight. She wanted to go lie down too. Sheldon looked a little too comfortable not to use him as a pillow.

"I thought you had stuff to do," Sheldon said, as she put her head on his chest.

"Meh," she said.

"What did you want with the yearbook anyway?" he asked.

"I had to look something up for Casey," she said. "She knew she'd never find Derek's yearbook in his room, so she asked me to look up a kid for her."

He lifted his head up just a little to look at her.

"Don't ask," she said. Then, since she couldn't keep a secret, all he had to do was wait for her to tell him everything.

"-And she says she doesn't believe Derek, but can't get the thought out of her head because what if he's telling the truth, so she just wants to know a little about him so she can go talk to him," Emily explained.

"She has to investigate _before_ she talks to him?" Sheldon asked.

"Duh," Emily said.

"Sorry I asked," Sheldon said. "So who's this kid?"

"Noel Covington," she said.

"Noel? I have World History with him," he said.

Emily sat up. "And?"

"And he enjoys long walks on the beach and fuzzy blankets and fireplaces," Sheldon said. Emily clamped two fingers onto his nose. "Ow?"

"Are you going to be serious?"

"You're beautiful when you're violent," he said, making her laugh and weakening her grip so he could just slip out from under her hand.

"I guess I'll take that as a no," Emily said. "Do you know the kid at all?"

"Yeah," Sheldon said, sitting up. "He's okay. A little quiet maybe. The last kid I would've expected to join the drama club."

"And you're the first one I would've expected to join," Emily said.

"I get that a lot," Sheldon said. "Mostly from my Mom, mind you, but still."

"You giant disappointment, you," Emily teased.

"It is what it is," Sheldon said. "She'll get used to lowered expectations."

"Sheldon," Emily said, ruffling his hair.

"I make a really great black sheep," he said.

"What did I tell you about that?"

"That Shawn's way more of a screw up than me?" Sheldon asked.

"Don't make me get violent again," Emily said.

"Oh noooo," Sheldon said. "Anything but that—Ow?" She'd grabbed the front of his shirt and, possibly, some chest hair along with it.

"Oops," Emily said. "Sorry."

"You really need some practice at this," Sheldon said, exasperated, and rubbing his chest. Emily ignored him.

"So will you help?"Emily asked, after a minute.

"Help with what?"

"Help get Casey talking to Noel," Emily said. "Have you not been paying attention?"

"How do I _do_ that?" Sheldon asked. "And why do we _want_ to do that? You've been ranting about Casey's big piney thing for Derek since forever and now you want to set her up with some other guy?"

"We're not trying to broker a marriage, Sheldon," Emily said. "We're just gonna _yenta_ a little."

"A yenta _is_ a marriage broker," Sheldon said. "I think. I gotta ask. But I still don't understand what's going on..."

"Me neither, really," Emily said. "but I'm her best friend. And as her best friend, I know she'll never make a move on Derek, and if he saw sense and made a move on _her_, she'd run like the devil was chasing her. So instead of doing the right, logical thing, she'd rather be alone and miserable for the rest of her life. I think she's too good for that. She shows interest in an actual guy, I have to support it."

Sheldon sighed. "So what do you want me to do?"

"I dunno," Emily said. "Best to keep it simple. Just go up to him at lunch and get him talking and we'll come over."

"Okay," Sheldon said. He sounded skeptical.

"It'll work," she said, and scrunched up her nose. He put his arms around her, lying back down and putting her head back onto his chest for a bit so they could enjoy the hour or so before her parents were due back.

Part Two: Noel.

Noel Covington's mother had told him to get rid of the jeans with the paint splatters on them, and she'd been trying to get him to go for a haircut for weeks. So it stood to reason that he was wearing the beat to hell jeans and his hair was flopping all over the place when he finally got to talk to Casey McDonald.

Maybe talk was a strong word. For the first few minutes, he was lucky that he could manage monosyllables.

Sheldon and his girlfriend Emily busted their asses trying to get the conversation going. Besides being weirded out by this obvious setup, Noel just wasn't feeling that articulate. This was unusual for him. More often than not, he had the opposite problem with his mouth getting him into trouble.

"So, you're into writing and stuff, right?" Sheldon asked Noel.

"Um, yeah," he said. Noel was reminded of the first time his folks took him to see Santa Clause at the mall and he'd run clear to the escalators before his Mom caught him.

"Casey writes poetry," Emily said. "Don't you, Case?"

"Sometimes," Casey said. "Yeah."

They both nodded, and Noel could think of nothing else but _Say something dammit! _

"And you guys are in the play together?" Sheldon asked.

"Not really," Noel said.

"Not together," Casey said.

"You're doing the thing with Derek, right?" Noel asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "Thanks so much for reminding me."

"Happy to help," Noel said.

"Did I tell you guys what Mrs. Zeldin made us do?" Casey asked Emily and Sheldon.

"Make Magic Happen?" Emily said, laughing.

"Come again?" Sheldon asked.

Casey explained about being made to teach some ASL to the group, pulling the appropriate faces, and imitating the way Derek laughed at her.

"It should've been this great moment, right?" Casey said. "But there's Derek right behind me and it's like I can feel him giving me bunny ears or something."

"Did he call you—" Emily began.

"Don't say it!" Casey said.

"Okay I won't say it," Emily said. Then she signed something. Sheldon snorted. Casey growled and tried to grab Emily's hands.

"Show me that again?" Noel asked. Emily did.

"Yeah," Noel said. "I think he did. What's it mean?"

"Princess," Emily said. "He actually gave her a name sign based on it." She showed him Casey's name sign.

"He calls you _princess_?" Noel asked.

"And yet somehow I let him live," Casey said. "I think that shows admirable restraint, don't you?"

"Admirable," Noel said. "So what do you call _him_?"

"Well," Casey began.

"Keep it clean," Sheldon said. "If it's one of the four or five signs I recognize, you'll be in deep trouble young lady."

Casey didn't look like she wanted to laugh at that, but she couldn't help herself, even as she smacked his arm.

"You're no fun," Noel said.

"I know, right?" Casey said. "Who died and made him boss?"

"I'm just saying," Sheldon said. "If I know them, probably everybody else does, too."

"_I_ don't," Noel said.

"She can teach you later," Sheldon said.

Noel grinned. He couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. "When?"

Emily looked from Noel to Casey and smiled. "You free Friday night? We could double."

"I could do that," Casey said.

"What'd you have in mind?" Noel asked.

Part Three: Derek.

He didn't really get any phone numbers at that first club meeting. He could have gotten a couple, if he'd tried, but still, he hadn't. But in any case, Casey didn't need to know that. He had a reputation to uphold.

And he really didn't know why he'd told Casey about that Noel kid. It had just come out of his mouth without any real involvement or choice on his part. He'd just needed a handy comeback. And then when she started to pester him for information, well, all he could do was grin at her, stuff his face and hope that she ultimately didn't believe him.

No such luck. Tuesday night at dinner, Casey announced that she had a date on Friday. As much as he would normally have had fun messing with her, he just wasn't in the mood that night. As soon as she broke the news, Derek decided to focus on his sloppy Joe.

His Dad tapped his arm and asked him if he had plans.

Suddenly, he was able to piece together a large part of the conversation that he'd missed. Dad or Nora had probably asked Casey if she had plans, because_ they_ wanted to go out and needed a babysitter. Casey had plans, so that left him. The knowledge of what his Dad was about to ask him didn't help him wiggle out of it.

_I'm losing my touch_, he thought dimly, as he was saddled with job of watching the rugrats on Friday night.

This, naturally put him in an even more rotten mood. To add to the fun, on Thursday, Derek and Casey brought their lunch to Mrs. Zeldin's room to start work on the play. She'd asked the two of them to make some notes about changes they needed to make. Casey's script was covered in sticky notes and marked within an inch of its life. His, admittedly, looked relatively untouched, but that didn't mean that he hadn't done some work.

He had tons of ideas. In the original, Derek's character Jay, for example, has to have a two way conversation through the door. That obviously wasn't going to happen. He thought he knew how they could get around it.

"In the second half, after she goes into the room," Derek began. "She's gonna be talking and I need to know when it's safe to come in and do my lines so we don't talk at the same time."

"We could just have a prompter for that," Casey said. "Someone who can signal you when the time comes."

"Yes, Casey," Derek said, slowly, and patronizingly as he could. "I know. I was gonna say that."

"Excuuuse me," she said, rolling her eyes and gesturing with an apple slice. "Anything else, B-R-A-N-D-O?" She fingerspelled the name with her free hand and managed to be just as patronizing as he'd just been.

"Brando, huh?" Derek said. "I might like that."

"Sarcasm," she said, signing the word, too.

"I still like it," he said. He made what he thought was a Brando face, raising his chin a little, puffing out his cheeks, and tilting his head. It was really too bad that he didn't have a cut up orange to complete the look.

Mrs. Z. tapped him. "Can we focus?" Mrs. Zeldin used to be an actress, so she really knew how to speak clearly. Derek had less trouble reading her lips than most. This was a relief, since he couldn't ask Christine to come to the meeting and interpret for him, since she'd already worked with him all morning. Plus, he was pretty sure that if he couldn't handle a lousy half-hour meeting on his own, he may as well pack it up.

"Okay," Derek said. "We could keep a couple of these lines if we have him guess what she's up to. Like if they've been together for a while, he knows her pretty well, right?"

"For example?" Mrs. Z. asked.

"See this line on page 5 where Jay tells her to get off the phone?" Derek asked, pointing. He waited while Mrs. Z., and Casey turned to the right spot."Instead of 'Can you please get off the phone while I'm talking to you,' he can say 'Are you on the phone in there?'"

Casey tapped him. "And she can say 'How does he do that?' or something like that?"

Derek shrugged. "Could be," he said.

"What else?" Casey asked.

"I figure Terri could keep talking back to him here and there, 'cause maybe she's the type who talks to the TV, too," Derek said, making Mrs. Z. crack a smile. "But what if she just kicks the door sometimes?" Derek continued. Casey tended to kick the door or stomp when she was annoyed with him and at the mention of it, she narrowed her eyes at him. He played innocent.

Casey suggested that Derek speak less and sign more in the first part of the play.

"You just want more lines than me," Derek said. He'd pictured it as more of a mix of the two languages, like Spanglish. He thought he'd sign a word here and there as he spoke, the way people did sometimes when they wanted to keep him in the loop.

Casey, dork that she was, started making a case about it being more dramatic if it felt like Jay was forced to speak when he wasn't as comfortable doing so. He wanted to make fun of her for taking everything so seriously, but he liked her idea. So he shut up.

"I like that," said. "What do you think, Derek?"

"Okay," Derek said, taking notes.

"And maybe people won't focus too much on my bad signing because I'd have to sign and talk at the same time," Casey said. Derek rolled his eyes. She could fish for compliments all day, but he wasn't biting.

"So you'll have to keep repeating my lines back so that everyone knows what I said," Derek said.

"Yeah," Casey said, wrinkling her nose.

"We'll figure out a way to make that look natural," Mrs. Z. said. "We have time."

"About all these changes," Casey said.

"Yeah?" Mrs. Z. said.

"Would the original author let us get away with all this?" she asked.

"You let me worry about that," Mrs. Z. said.

_Ohhhh_, Derek thought. _It's hers._

"You wrote this, didn't you?" Casey asked. She glanced down at her copy, then up again. "This is your maiden name?"

"Well," Mrs. Z. replied. "I figured it'd save money to use one of my plays, yeah."

Casey gushed for a minute—he caught the word "awesome"— but Derek tuned out, focusing instead on her hand as she twirled her pen. She caught him and signed "Hey!"

He shook his head to clear it.

"Yeah," Mrs. Z. said. "That's enough for one day. Make some changes and come back tomorrow, same time?"

They both agreed and Mrs. Z. shooed them out.

Casey bounced downstairs and skipped to her locker. _Skipped_. Derek followed at a safe distance.

"Don't deny you know me," Casey signed, when she turned around and saw the way he was staring at her.

"Who are you?" Derek signed. She stuck her tongue out.

"I am _happy_," she said. "And you can't screw it up."

"I love a challenge," he said. All that smiling she was doing was starting to infect him.

"That was the coolest meeting ever," Casey said.

"If you say so," Derek said, still grinning and feeling like an idiot for doing so. In truth, the meeting _had_ been pretty darn cool, but to admit this would have gone against everything he stood for.

Part Four: Casey.

Friday night, there was a reappearance of cranky! Derek. He came back from hockey practice, flopped into the recliner and growled at anyone who came near.

Casey kept it to herself, but she couldn't help but giggle at the fact that she had a date and he did not. It didn't happen that often so she didn't know why his nose was so out of joint about it. But she didn't want to rub it in. Unless he pushed her.

She got ready with her usual indecision, going back and forth between her really good perfume (_Ma Griffe_) and the cotton scented stuff from the bath store. She finally gave a quick spritz of the cotton stuff and blindly reached into her closet, pulling out her light blue sweater and a denim skirt to go with it. She went to Lizzie and Marti for final approval, and once she got it, she was ready to go.

Mom and George had already taken off, and Derek was in the kitchen, so when she let him in, poor, cute, nervous Noel only really had to deal with Lizzie, Edwin and Marti. And to think, he looked relieved at first.

Marti made him spin around so she could approve his outfit, too.

"You should think about sparkles," Marti said. "I don't know why boys don't like 'em."

"They just look better on girls," Noel said.

Marti thought that over. "Okay."

"So, Noel," Edwin began. "Couple questions—"

"Shoot," Noel said.

"Edwin," Casey said.

"Where are you taking Casey tonight?" Edwin said. "And when will you have her back? You do realize she has a curfew, yes?"

"Don't listen to him," Lizzie said. "We don't."

Noel played along, keeping a straight face, "I will have her back on time, yes. Where we're going is actually supposed to be a surprise, but it's not far away, perfectly safe, well lit, and easily accessible to public transportation."

Edwin squinted as he looked Noel over, then gave a little shrug, like Noel would just have to do, then he headed toward the kitchen to join Derek in whatever mac and cheese induced disaster he was about to perpetrate.

"Nice meeting you," Noel called.

"We'll see about that," Edwin said, disappearing behind the pocket doors.

"Sorry about him," Casey said.

"Eh," Noel shrugged.

"You're an only child right?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Noel said.

"Bet you're feeling pretty glad about that right now," Casey said.

"I dunno," Noel said. "Might be cool to have _sisters_."

"Right answer," Lizzie said from the couch. She high-fived him.

"Me too," Marti said, holding up her hand. Noel obliged.

"Okay," Casey said. "Let's get out of here before—"

The pocket door opened. "Food," Derek announced.

Edwin had to be tipping him off, telling him when to come in. Derek's timing could not be that good otherwise. He walked into the living room and stopped in front of Casey.

"You still here?" he asked.

"No," Casey said.

"Sup?" Noel said to Derek. Derek nodded at him.

"You're taking her away right?" Derek said. "Soon?"

Casey balled her hands into fists, wishing she had pockets in that skirt.

"Let's get out of here," she said. "Now."

"Cool," Noel said, allowing Casey to drag him out, waving at everyone one last time on the way out.

"So," Casey said, once they were outside. "You really don't wanna tell me where we're going?"

"I kept the secret this long...ya know, why ruin it in the home stretch?" Noel said.

"You know what I've learned from having brothers around these past few months?" Casey asked.

"What?"

"The art of violence," Casey said, stepping up into his face. He smiled. He really did have one hell of a smile. Even under the street lamp, his huge blue eyes did things to distract her, but she wanted to prove she was stronger than that.

"Oh so you think that's funny, huh?" Casey said.

"I'm sure you can snap me like a twig, actually," Noel said.

"And yet you keep smiling," Casey said.

"Yeah, 'cause I might just enjoy it," Noel said.

"Ew," Casey said, cracking Noel up. They crunched their way down the walkway and across to Emily's where they met Em and Sheldon.

"You don't happen to have any idea where we're going, do you?" Emily asked as she came out of the house.

"_I_ don't," Casey said, looking pointedly at Noel.

"Oh okay," Emily said. "Thought it was just me."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Noel asked.

"Skipped a generation," Casey said.

"Really?" Noel asked.

"Yep," Casey said. "I hate surprises. Which is why you really oughta tell us where we're going."

"Nice try," Noel said. "See what she did there?"

"I know," Sheldon said. "I was a little scared."

Casey and Emily tried to narrow things down based on the bus they were taking.

"The mall?" Emily asked.

"Nope," Noel said.

"The old movie theater?" Casey asked.

"_Nyet_," Sheldon said.

"Smelly Nelly's?" Casey asked.

"Negative," Noel said. He stuck his hands in his pockets as the wind picked up a little.

On the bus, Casey sat with Noel and Em and Sheldon sat in seats facing them. Em and Casey made a game out of trying to force answers out of the boys, once in a while injecting something like "where did you say we were going?" into the conversation. To no avail.

"By the way," Noel said, rubbing a hand along Casey's arm. "I really didn't get a chance to tell you before, but you look really nice tonight."

"Why thank you," Sheldon deadpanned. "I kinda went back and forth about this shirt."

An eavesdropper snorted from somewhere behind them. This, Casey noticed, almost made Sheldon crack, but he held it together.

Noel went with it, keeping a straight face, barely. "Yeah, it really brings out your eyes."

"You're making me blush," Sheldon said. "But shouldn't you be telling _Casey_ that she looks nice?"

Emily and Casey each slid over one spot, pretending not to know either of them.

"Babe," Sheldon said. "Where ya going?"

"Me and Casey thought that the two of you secret-keeping yahoos would rather be alone," Emily said. Casey nodded.

"Cannot be without my li'l squirrel," Sheldon said, in this tiny, meek voice. Casey snickered.

"_Squir_rel?" Noel asked.

"What did I tell you would happen if you called me that again?" Emily asked. Sheldon's knees snapped together.

"Dude," Noel said, shaking his head. He tried to use this as misdirection, so that no one saw him pull the cord. Casey looked out the window with interest.

"What if we get separated?" Casey asked. "You know, I'm still kinda new here, and I have no sense of direction. You can ask Derek. So if I get lost, you might just find my bones in a few years. I mean, unless you wanna tell me where we're going."

"We all have your cell number," Noel said.

"You're starting to enjoy tormenting me, aren't you?" Casey asked.

"Who me?" Noel asked. "I'm still waiting for all the violence you promised."

He grabbed her hand. "So we don't get separated," he said.

"'Kay," Casey squeaked. Meanwhile, Sheldon had his arm around Emily's shoulders. They went down a block and some change and finally stopped in front of a little hole-in-the-wall cafe, smaller even than Smelly Nelly's. The place looked a little more Old World with tile floors and wrought iron tables and chairs. The smell of coffee was really strong, not as diluted by the smell of chocolate and pastry, even though there was both on display. Noel handed out a couple of fliers from the counter in explanation.

_Poetry Slam 8-9:30_, it read. _Jason Moore, singer-songwriter 9:30-10:30. _

"Really?" Emily said, skeptically.

"Really?" Casey squealed.

"Have a little faith Squir-_Emily_," Sheldon said.

The poetry was a bit uneven. There was one guy who read about the sound one of those cheap rubber balls makes against the side of a house and what happens when you play ball when your Mom's trying to take a nap. He got a standing ovation, as did a teenage girl who wrote about the things that go through her head when she's supposed to be paying attention in her Italian class. She stuck an Italian word or phrase in here and there for effect, making the guy behind the counter laugh. Casey guessed that it had to do with mangling the language. Casey, who felt like she'd done her share of language mangling just lately, could identify. They were the memorable ones. During the others, Casey and Noel alternately doodled and played tic tac toe on the paper placemats. Emily and Sheldon had themselves some eye sex. Noel drew two faces with hypnotized squiggly eyes gazing at each other, and it was all Casey could do not to lose it in the middle of this one guy's Really Serious Poem.

Then Jason Moore came on. He was in his early twenties and at first, Casey wrote him off as a Bright Eyes clone, but then his voice evened out and he showed a sense of humor, so he won her over. He threw some cover songs into the mix, ending his set with Matchbox Twenty's "Bright Lights." He invited the small crowd to sing along.

Over the course of the night, Noel and Casey had moved their chairs closer together as they'd gotten more comfortable. This had not been a conscious thing, but Casey became aware of it when she realized that she could pick out Noel's voice from the noise of the group, even though he did not mean to be heard, and that his voice was pretty good. Then she realized she was staring at him because he blushed and turned away, sheepishly.

"What?" he asked when he turned back and caught her still staring.

"Nothing," she said. "Why'd you stop singing?"

"Common sense kicked in," he said. "Nobody needs to hear that."

"Maybe I do," Casey said. Noel blushed a little deeper. She didn't comment on it, though it was beyond cute. Noel had the same coloring she did, so Casey thought she knew a thing or two about blushing and how embarrassing it can be to the blusher and how funny it is to everyone else.

Right then, two things happened. Emily took one look at Noel and said "Awww!" And the song ended to brief silence, then applause.

It would've been a good time to kiss if Noel hadn't been so busy hiding his face with a napkin. After a minute, he folded part of it back to peek at her, to see if the coast was clear.

Casey giggled when she saw that one eye appear from behind the napkin. Then she reached for the napkin and snatched it away.

Noel paid for Casey. As a compromise, Casey made Noel promise that he'd let her take him to Smelly Nelly's some time during the next week. And she was going to make sure he stuck to that. Afterward, as they stood in the cold and the wind, waiting for the bus to arrive, they did what most fifteen year olds did—complained that they weren't sixteen.

"I might have access to a beat-up Camry in a couple months," Noel said.

"Ooh," Casey said. "Does the heater work?"

"Yes," Noel said. "When it starts."

"Hmm," Casey said.

"Think that's better or worse than the Prince?" Emily joked.

"The _what_?" Noel asked.

"My Stepdad's old junker," Casey explained. "The one he promised to Derek as soon as he passes his driver's test." Derek was set to take the test in a couple of weeks.

"Not that Derek would ever drive me anywhere," Casey continued.

"He said he'd give _me_ a ride to school," Emily said.

"How nice of him," Casey said. "He said _I_ could have his bus pass. If I begged."

"I remember Shawn saying he might let me ride in the trunk," Sheldon said. "But he was full of shit. The second he got his license, he couldn't wait to show off. He was practically honking at random people on the street, to see if they needed rides."

"But did he give _you_ a ride?" Noel asked. "Eventually?"

"One or two," Sheldon joked. "_And _he slows down enough to let me out. He didn't used to."

They continued in this vein even after they piled onto the bus, which stank a little bit, but was blessedly warm, so Casey couldn't really complain. Much. While they made their way to the back, where it didn't stink as much, Noel kept a hand on her back to steady her as the bus hit every possible bump. Chivalry, how she'd missed it.

When they got to their block, Emily dragged Sheldon off to her house for a minute to give Casey and Noel some privacy. Neither of them were subtle about it.

Noel looked over at them, shook his head, and walked Casey to her door.

"Well," Casey said. "Thanks for taking me out. I really had a great time."

"Yeah," Noel said. "I was just really glad you said yes. Ya know, even though you didn't teach me any of the ASL curses you promised."

"On the first date?" Casey asked. "What kind of girl do you take me for?"

He nodded. "Good point," he said.

Noel was pretty darn gentlemanly. Someone had trained him well, Casey guessed. But that didn't mean that both of them didn't fumble the good night kiss. It took a couple of false starts before he went for a short, polite peck on the mouth that nonetheless ensured that she'd be in a good mood for the rest of the night.

Part Five: Derek.

At around 11:15, the front door opened. Derek, wondering who the hell was coming home _that_ early, looked up from his spot in the recliner, expecting the 'rents and stories of car trouble, but it was Casey, a full forty-five minutes before curfew. He turned back to the TV, shaking his head at her hopelessness, waiting for the ranting to start. When he didn't feel the door slam as he'd expected, he turned and saw her drop her coat twice as she tried to hang it on the dinky hook, something that never failed to piss her off. That night she laughed. She was smiling. A lot.

He studied her face.

"What?" she signed. She blushed, still smiling. Something about that smile made him want to cry.

Suddenly, all he wanted was to go to bed.

He turned back to the TV and tried changing channels, but suddenly the remote didn't want to cooperate. The fact that he was abusing the thing didn't occur to him until after the third time he'd landed on channel 444 when he'd been looking for channel 4.

Casey took off her shoes and sat down on the couch. She waved a hand in his periphery.

"What's on?" she signed.

"Nothing," he signed. He handed her the remote and got up. He didn't bother to see if she had anything else to say. He just went up to his room and shut the door.


	39. Chapter 39

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirty-Nine.

Part One: Nora.

Saturday evening, unable to take the suspense any longer, Nora called Casey into the kitchen, ostensibly to get her to help with dinner, but that ruse fell apart the second Nora took out the frozen lasagne. So she just went ahead and asked for details about Noel.

"Mo-om," Casey said. But she was smiling, so that meant that she would spill with minimal prodding.

"Where'd you go?"

"This little place," Casey said. "It was called _Tazza_. It means 'cup.' I googled it."

_Of course she did_, Nora thought, smiling. "The place on Stevens. Was it nice?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "There were those old black and white tile floors—you know, the ones that you can't stare at or you'll get dizzy? Those. And we split this huge plate of antipasto—"

Derek walked in and went straight for the fridge. Casey stopped talking, even though Derek's back was to both of them. She and Nora watched him root around in there in silence.

After a few seconds, he felt the eyes on him and turned around, thankfully, shutting the fridge door behind him. That, Nora thought, was progress at least.

"You're waiting for me to leave so you can start talking again?" he asked. Casey blushed.

"I thought you were the smart one," he said, making her blush deeper even as she tried to glare at him.

"I guess it doesn't matter," Casey said. "Where were we?"

"Antipasto," Nora said.

On his way out, Derek, pudding cup in one hand, tried to pat Casey on the head with the other one. She slapped at him, of course, and he laughed at her.

"Do you think he'll ever grow up?" Casey asked, glaring at the door.

"I'd give it a good thirty years," Nora said.

"Ucch," Casey said.

"So?" Nora said, trying to get her back on track. Again. "About Noel? Is he cute or what?"

Casey lit up again. "Yeah," she said. "He's pretty tall, a little taller than Derek, I think. I should've taken a picture. Blue eyes. And he's into poetry." Casey told her about the poetry slam and the singer they'd seen, and how Noel and Sheldon had managed to keep the plans secret from both girls.

"Even after we asked them, like, a billion questions," Casey said.

"Yeah," Nora said. She'd been on the receiving end of a Casey interrogation a time or twenty. "I'm impressed."

"You should be," Casey said.

"Gonna see him again?" Nora asked.

"Hope so," Casey said. "I mean, I'm gonna see him in school and at rehearsal and stuff, but yeah, I wanna go out with him again."

"And when can we meet him?" Nora sing-songed.

"Well, you _could've_ met him last night, if you'd been here, but after Edwin's third degree, I'll be lucky if he comes within fifty feet of the place," Casey said.

Nora laughed. "There's an image."

"You have no idea!" Casey said. "But I think Lizzie and Marti'll have Noel's back."

"What about Derek?" Nora asked. She couldn't resist.

"What about him?" Casey asked. "He was his usual charming self. I think he asked Noel if he'd hurry up and take me away. I'm surprised he didn't try to change the locks again."

"Sounds about right," Nora said.

Part Two: Derek.

Sunday afternoon, just when Derek thought that Casey was going to spend the entire weekend giggling, with her cell phone glued to the side of her head, she managed to pop up in the doorway of his room and flick his light on and off to get his attention.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes as a matter of fact," Casey said. "We have work to do."

"By 'can I help you,'" Derek began. "I really don't mean 'Can I help you.' I mean 'what are you doing in my room and when are you leaving?'"

"Yeah," Casey said coming inside. "Don't care." She tried to hand him some papers and when he didn't reach to take them, she put them down on his desk before she sat in his chair.

"You're in here because..." Derek said.

"I told you," Casey said. Then she signed. "We have work to do."

He laughed at her. "Work?" he signed. He was running out of things to stall her with. For a change, the problem wasn't that he didn't want to do the work. Actually, he was pretty excited about messing with this play. He'd just rather that there were a third party in the room with them. As much as he didn't want to think about it, the word chaperone kept flashing through his head.

And nobody else was home.

"You realize that this is Sunday, right?" Derek asked. "It's the day of rest. And don't _you_ work hard enough Casey?"

Casey laughed. "Nice touch," she said.

"I thought so," Derek said.

Slowly, like she expected something to bite her, Casey reached into the cup of pens on his desk, pulling one out and handing it to Derek, her way of saying that resistance was futile.

"That chair has wheels on it, you know," Derek said.

Casey said something about how there was enough stuff on the floor that he'd never move her more than a couple centimeters.

"Aren't you afraid you'll catch something from being in here?" he asked.

"I'm being brave," Casey said. She took an pencil out of the cup, leaned over, and used it to flick a sock away from herself. Then, handling it like it was radioactive, she put the pencil aside where she was unlikely to touch it. It occurred to Derek that tossing his dirty striped polo at her head just would not do. He decided to keep it handy just in case.

One fundamental difference between Derek and Casey is that Casey had sense enough to password protect her computer. Derek kicked himself for this as Casey booted up his desktop and put in her flash drive.

She was wearing sweats and these slippers that she had with the head of Sigmund Freud on them. She saw some girl wearing them on a TV show and had to have them. Only Casey.

"Hey!" she signed, bringing him back to earth. He raised his eyebrows.

"You need to read," she signed, pointing at the papers he'd been ignoring.

"Read?" he signed, looking horrified. How could she possibly expect him to do that? Casey had her legs crossed and kept jiggling her foot up and down. It was a little hard for Derek to concentrate on his reading with Freud's head bobbing up and down in his peripheral vision. There he was, bouncing and judging Derek with his googly eyes. "I'm watching you," Left Foot Freud said. At least Right Foot Freud couldn't see him from where he was. But there was nothing for him to do but tune the old dude out. He couldn't exactly tell Casey to put some real shoes on because Freud was watching him, could he?

So he zeroed in on the text in front of him. Casey'd made the changes they'd talked about and added a few new ones in green font. She'd also inserted comments into the thing here and there, suggesting more changes, or explaining the green ones. These comments were extremely detailed, a mini essay on every new change, and at the sight of them, he couldn't help but smile.

She even tried to put ASL glosses in place of some of his lines. Why she'd bothered with this was anybody's guess. Maybe they needed to stage an intervention to finally get her to admit that she had no control over the homework habit. She hadn't done a bad job, but he'd still have to make a correction here and there. Here, an opportunity to mess with Casey presented itself. He got up from the bed and walked over to the desk, standing behind her and leaning over her as he rooted through the pens for one in particular.

All she needed to see was that red pen in his hand. She grabbed his wrist.

"I don't think so," she said.

"What?" he asked. "I'm not allowed to write on this?"

"No red pens," she said. He pretended to be surprised as she turned around to face him and went into a long diatribe about how teachers don't even use red pens anymore. They used green or purple instead, blah blah blah.

"Casey," he said. She kept talking.

"Case," he tried again to no effect.

He started to tune out, looking at her mouth but not really paying attention to what she was saying anymore. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and put one hand on each shoulder.

"Casey?"

"What?" she asked, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Stop thinking."

"What?"

"You're ranting at me about a red pen," he said. "I was only grabbing it to pretend like I needed to make a ton of corrections."

"It's okay if you have to make corrections," Casey said. "Just not in red." She said something about the paper bleeding.

He held up one hand. When he had her attention, he signed, "You're doing it again." He reached past her again and picked up another pen. There was probably no reasoning with her.

"Better?" he signed. She smirked at him, finally getting how ridiculous the whole thing was.

"So what are you doing at my computer?" he asked.

"I'm waiting for you to tell me what to add," she said.

The document was the only window open on his computer. No internet, no solitaire, no nothing. She was waiting there, staring at something she'd stared at probably fifty times. He slapped his forehead.

"Time for a break," he said. He grabbed her forearms and pulled her up. She put up a token struggle, but even she knew that she needed to stop looking at that thing. There was probably a whole lot of "Where are we going?" and maybe a "De-_rek_!" or two from her end, but he wasn't really looking as he dragged her downstairs and into the kitchen.

Normally if he had her in the kitchen with him, he'd try to get her to cook something or make him a sandwich and they'd go back and forth for a while until she'd make him something just to get him to stop bugging her. Not this time. He didn't trust her with what he had in mind.

She tapped him. "What are you doing?" she signed.

"Sit"

"I am not a dog!" she said, while sitting down.

"Good Casey," he said, patting her head. She threw a potholder at him.

There was some still warm leftover coffee in the pot. He sniffed it, deciding it was still good and poured it into the blender. Then he took out the milk, some ice cubes and chocolate ice cream. Casey helpfully pointed out that it was 1:30 in the afternoon. Like that made a difference. He hit a random button on the blender and the thing shook like the end of the world. It always did, but Casey cringed like it was the first time. Drama queen.

He expected her to refuse her milkshake the first time he offered it. It was too much sugar. She didn't get why Derek didn't use the soy milk, etc. He rolled his eyes and put it down on the table in front of her. It took maybe ten minutes before she took a sip. Then she took a gulp and had to pretend that it didn't give her brainfreeze. After she recovered, and took another sip, he noticed a little bit of chocolate in the corners of her mouth. Casey, as part of her role as Goddess of No Fun, wiped it off pronto, but it did awaken the part of Derek's mind that reminded him that he really liked to kiss chocolate off of a girl's face. It was just something that everyone needed to try.

For his part, he did what he could to get a good foamy mustache going. Then he tried to get some onto the end of his nose. The tumbler he used had a wide mouth so it wasn't too hard to do it. Stuff like this convinced Smarti that he was a comic genius, on par with Drake and Josh. Casey was less impressed. She dabbed at her own nose to let him know to wipe his off.

"What?" he said innocently, making sure he smeared the chocolate more. Casey rolled her eyes and put her shake down so that she could go get a paper towel. She wet it and then she tried to grab his chin in one hand while she wiped his face with the other. Like Nora did when Marti got messy. She had a good grip but he was able to pull back. Then, because he couldn't resist, he dipped a finger into his glass and smeared a little of it across her cheek.

"Real mature," she said, trying to wipe it off, but he was too fast for her, getting her with it again.

She said something, probably "De-rek!" as she struggled to get away from him. She should know better. It's not like Edwin could wiggle away when Derek got the idea to make him taste the expired milk or eat the crusty ice on top of the ice cream. Plus, the kitchen was full of good places to corner people.

_Bunny face?_ He wondered, _or war paint? _She was between the stove and the fridge and he was blocking her pretty well as he drew a chocolate line down her nose. But then she reached up and grabbed the glass, throwing it into his face, splattering herself a little, but getting him good. Then she wiggled away.

Derek knew that this would have made some people really furious, but he was impressed with the little keener. He wiped off the worst of the dripping mess, but not all of it. She was going to get messy if it was the last thing he did.

He caught up with her in the upstairs hallway. A second more and she'd have been locked in her room.

"I looooveee yoooou," he said as he hugged her from behind, painting her old t-shirt and some of her hair with chocolate. He loved when she couldn't decide between laughing and screaming at him. That was one of those things that he got up in the morning for. That and bacon.

Casey tried to throw him off and couldn't. Finally he let her go.

"What the hell?" he asked. "Don't you know how to get out of that? A mugger would have a ball with you!"

"Shut up," she said. She tried to look over her shoulder to assess the damage to her shirt. She whacked him when she saw the little chocolate stains.

"We're just gonna have to teach you to defend yourself," Derek said. "Edwin can play the mugger and you can practice disabling him."

"He's gonna get you back someday," Casey said.

"Circle of life," Derek signed, making her laugh.

"I'm not cleaning up the mess downstairs," Casey said.

"Sounds like a plan," Derek said. "Me neither."

She shook her head at him as she went into the bathroom and shut the door. She was still in there, probably showering (and he most certainly _wasn't_ picturing her in the shower) when the 'rents came back with groceries.

Part Three: George.

"Wow," Nora said upon seeing the kitchen. "Guess it's a good thing you remembered to get more ice cream, huh?" This was from Nora—the woman who thought you could get the ebola virus if you didn't wear clean socks. The woman who all but boiled the dishes clean. And all she could do was comment on the extra double chocolate they'd just picked up on sale.

George wondered if he had finally corrupted her. He wasn't aware he had that power.

"Guess I better go see who ended up wearing it," Nora said.

"Do you need to guess?" George asked. "I'll do it." He had a very vivid mental picture of Casey, completely covered in the stuff, locked out of the bathroom and probably crying because, although she wasn't as bad as Derek said, sometimes the child just could not take a joke. So he steeled himself to go upstairs and deal with the fallout.

Imagine his surprise when he saw his eldest leaning against his door jamb, watching the bathroom door and looking decidedly sticky. The shower was going and George could hear Casey singing in there.

There was only one thing for George to do.

"Not funny," Derek signed, barely managing not to join in the laughter.

"She got you good," George signed.

"No comment," Derek signed. His shoulders were starting to shake. Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Casey shut off the water. George knew time was short.

"Sounds like she'll be in there a while," George lied. "You have just enough time to clean up the kitchen before she comes out."

Derek narrowed his eyes like he didn't believe him.

"Seriously," George said. "She just started singing stuff from _Wicked_. She's taking her time."

"Ooh, good idea, George," Casey called. Then she switched songs.

"I can wait," Derek said.

"Maybe," George said. "But the kitchen counter cannot." He put a hand on the scruff of his son's neck, like Derek was a misbehaving puppy or kitten, and led him downstairs to rub his nose in the mess he made.

Nora took one look at Chocolatey Derek and burst into hysterical laughter.

Derek narrowed his eyes. "Nora!" he said, grinning suddenly. "I missed you." Then he tried to hug her. She threatened him with the spray nozzle from the sink until he backed off. Then she took out her phone and took a picture of him.

_Yep, _George thought. _She's definitely been corrupted._

Derek knew he had all this coming, so he was a good sport about it. For a change, he put some actual effort into cleaning up the mess he made, forsaking his usual half-assed job and actually getting the counter clean. _And_ the floor. And even the blender.

_Kid's only doing this because he can't take a cold shower_, George thought. He really didn't like when he had thoughts like this. He looked over at Nora, who shrugged. At least it didn't look like she was thinking the same thing.

After a few minutes, Casey came downstairs and announced that she was going to Emily's. Thankfully, she was wearing something baggy, but that didn't stop Derek's eyes from following her out, the way they usually did. Both George and Nora pretended not to notice, the way _they_ usually did.

When Casey was gone, George took the sponge out of Derek's hand. Not that the kid had been doing anything with it by then.

"Okay, Pigpen, coast is clear," George said. "Go get cleaned up." He didn't need to tell him twice.

"A milkshake fight?" Nora said, once Derek had left.

George put his face in his hand and shook his head. "_Your_ kids," he said.

"Nuh-uh," Nora said. "Yours. _Both_ of em."

"Says you," George said.

"Casey never _used_ to do stuff like this," Nora said.

"And look what a great job she did," George said. "Could be worse, though."

"How?"

"They killed most of a thing of ice cream," George said. "But at least the whipped cream is still here."  
He'd meant that innocently, but when Nora gasped, he realized that it could be taken another way.

"Oh my God," Nora said.

"Don't overreact," George said, while thinking _Oh my God_.

"I'm not overreacting," Nora said. "We just gotta stop leaving the two of them alone in the house is all."

"See? That there? That's overreacting," George said. Not that he hadn't just been wondering about his son and cold showers. He sighed, and relented. Maybe they would try to make sure they weren't left alone, at least for a little while. So they could see where they stood.

Part Four: Edwin.

Derek's hockey team made it to the playoffs. Everyone knew that this was a possibility, the way they knew that a fire or a flood was a possibility. That didn't mean that anyone was prepared for the fallout. Derek had been in playoffs before, of course, but the whole family always seemed to develop amnesia. Edwin's Mom compared it to forgetting what childbirth felt like. If you remembered, you'd never get over the trauma of it.

Lizzie laughed at him when he tried to explain it to her.

"You're exaggerating," she said.

"Nuh-uh," he said.

"Uh-huh," Lizzie said.

"Sure," Edwin said. "Laugh now, but you'll see. You'll be all 'Why didn't I listen to you, Edwin, whyyy?' while Derek makes you bring him sandwiches." Okay, so he was hamming it up a little. But there was still truth to it.

"He makes me bring him sandwiches _now_," Lizzie said. "Whenever he can't find _you_. So instead of being a demanding pain in the butt, he'll be a _nervous_ and demanding pain in the butt. Big deal."

"Nervous?" Edwin asked. "_Nervous_? That doesn't even beg_in_ to describe it. This is psychosis. I mean, first there's the tapping." He demonstrated, drumming his fingers on his desk paying little to no attention to rhythm.

"And sometimes the tapping is on my head," Edwin continued.

"He only does that stuff to see how much you'll let him get away with," Lizzie said.

"Most of the time, yeah," Edwin said. "But you watch."

"Okay, so, a little tapping," Lizzie said. "What else?"

"Pacing," Edwin said. "Demanding entertainment from whoever's hanging around."

"So don't hang around," Lizzie said.

"He'll find me," Edwin said. "He always finds me."

Lizzie laughed again. She still didn't get it. "Liz, how can I make you understand the seriousness of our predicament?"

"Ooh, word of the day?" Lizzie said.

"Mock me all you want—"

"I usually do," Lizzie said.

Inspiration hit. "Liz," he asked. "What happens when Casey has a thing, a play or something?" He'd been around Cramming for Exams Casey, but strictly speaking, that had been a walk in the park compared with even Slightly Worried Derek.

Lizzie started to rub her forehead. "That is so not the same thing."

"Nope," Edwin agreed. "Casey at least tries to be nice I bet."

Lizzie chewed this over for a second. "I still think you're exaggerating." But she was starting to worry; Edwin could tell.

"The first playoff game is Friday," Edwin said. "And his road test is on Saturday." He thought of that as the final nail in the coffin.

"Yup," Lizzie said. "I know." Edwin wasn't sure what he expected, but it sure as hell wasn't "yup." A little shudder, a crinkly forehead, _something_ that showed that Lizzie had some survival instinct, would have been in order. This whole denial thing that she had going just wasn't good.

Smarti wasn't worried either, but then again, Derek never picked on her.

Nope, Edwin was the only one with any sense. It really sucked not having anyone heed his warnings.

On top of this, Casey was in some kind of mood, too. Edwin tried to give her a heads up, and see if she'd hide him if the moment ever arose. Casey just turned in her computer chair, raised her eyebrow at him and said:

"Derek's kind of edgy huh?"

"See? I knew you'd understand," Edwin began.

"Well _of course_," Casey said. There was something in her voice he just didn't like. "_Derek_'s nervous so we all need to drop everything. Derek—the absolute freakin center of the universe!"

"Ooookay," Edwin said. There was nothing to do except back slowly out of the room.

"And now you're doing the 'back away slowly' thing," Casey said. "Trying to say I'm nuts? Is that it?"

"Um, no?" Edwin said. It was hard to tell what she wanted from him. "Sorry?" He was still trying to inch out of the room, though.

"Aren't you gonna ask _why_ I'm upset?" Casey asked.

Edwin's first instinct was to yelp "No!" and run screaming into the night, but then it occurred to him that listening to Casey might put him on her good side, and a happy Casey might be more willing to save his bacon should he ever need his bacon saved.

"Why're you upset, Casey?" he asked.

"You really wanna know?" she asked.

_I wanna make it past this week without being used for target practice_, Edwin thought. "Of course," he said.

She didn't believe him, but it didn't stop her from talking.

"So I went to rehearsal today, even though Derek wasn't gonna be there," she began. She didn't get further.

Downstairs, the door slammed and the air went out of Edwin's lungs.

"Crap," he gasped.

Casey whacked him, "Watch your language!"

"Can we worry about my language later?" Edwin asked. "I need to hide!"

"Don't be an idiot," Casey said. She was about to say something else, but was interrupted by Derek, who was stomping his way up the stairs.

"Did you do something to him?" Casey asked.

"No," Edwin said. "What've I been trying to tell you? He's gonna be like this all—"

Casey's door opened. Edwin yelped like a girl.

"Ed," Derek said. There was no ignoring him, so Edwin turned around.

"Sandwich," Derek signed. "Salami and mayo. Now."

"Yes sir," Edwin said, and promptly scurried.

Part Five: Casey.

Edwin was right. As hard as that thought was for Casey to articulate, it was twice as hard to deal with Derek that whole week. When he wasn't ordering Edwin around, he was channel surfing fast enough to give a hummingbird a headache. And he kept doing stuff like trying to make all the coins in his pockets stand on their edges, and failing that, trying to get them all spinning at once. The sound of all those coins spinning on the dining room table stayed with Casey for a while. When he got bored with that, he made Edwin tell jokes and did the drill sergeant thing again while the poor kid practiced the piano. The next day, he challenged half the house to a Babe Raider 3 tournament. Lizzie trounced him badly enough for him to give up on that and move on to chess. He and Casey were at it for three hours, before George officially called it a draw.

And then Friday came and, of course, the crazy multiplied further. The whole day, Derek was white-faced and distracted. Plus, he couldn't lipread worth a damn. At school it wasn't so bad; he spoke when spoken to, and seemed to have it together, mostly. But when he got home, he stopped even pretending that he was okay. There was a lot of heaving. Casey stood outside the bathroom door, at one point, trying the knob to check on him, but he locked it.

If she hadn't been worried about him puking on her shoes, she might have found some of his nervousness cute. He was dropping his usual 'too cool for you' routine and showing that he actually wanted something badly enough to be afraid of failure. Casey had seen little flashes of this in him before, but that was the most nervous she'd ever seen him. While she could have done without the puking, she realized she wanted his team to go all the way.

She shook her head to rid it of this train of thought and was distracted by George coming up the stairs. He gave a couple of good hard stomps on the floor and Derek came out, trailing the scent of cinnamon mouthwash as he left without a word. It was a relief to see them leave.

About half an hour later, Mom asked if Casey was ready to go.

"Go where?" Casey asked. She was on the couch, remote in hand. She was the opposite of ready to go.

"Oh, Mom, no," Casey said, figuring it out.

"Like you had other plans?" Mom asked. Casey gestured at the TV.

"I mean outside of the _Degrassi_-thon?" Mom asked.

"But," Casey said. "_Hockey_?"

"He'd come to support _yo_u," Mom said.

"No he wouldn't," Casey said.

"Of course he would," Mom said. "We'd drag him, just like we're dragging you. Now get your coat."

She called Noel at the last minute and got him to meet her there. If she was going to have to sit through hockey again, she was going to need someone to make faces at to distract her from all the violence.

And distract her he did. First, he got to meet Mom and George. Casey's Mom did what she could to make Noel feel comfortable, while looking like she wanted to eat him up. Then there was George.

"Edwin's already submitted his findings to me, so I guess _we_ can skip the third degree," George said.

"That's a definite relief, Mr. Venturi," Noel said.

"George," George said. "Marti's ready to adopt you, so I think it's safe to dispense with the formality."

"Awesome," Noel said. Marti and Lizzie sat down to Noel's left, leaving Casey the right side and creating a buffer between them and Edwin, not to mention their folks.

Noel amused Marti for a few minutes by pointing out a group of kids on the other side of the rink who'd painted their faces the rival school's colors. Red and gold.

"Like Gryffindor!" Marti said.

"Barking shame this isn't Quidditch, yeah?" Noel said, in a perfect British accent, cracking Marti up. Not having sisters, he didn't realize he was creating a monster and thus had to be British for most of the game. During half-time or intermission, or whatever the heck you called it, he was still talking like that.

"That is so hot," Casey said leaning closer to him on the hot dog and soda line.

"Think so?" Noel asked. "Well then that's a bit of all right, innit?"

"A bit of all right?"

"So I'm running out of things to say!" Noel said, dropping the accent. "Sue me. I've been at it for like an hour."

"How'd you get so good at that?"

"That wasn't good," Noel said. "_That_ was five different accents at once. I think I made myself dizzy. My Mom's just been on a Brit-com kick. She bought the box set of _Are You Being Served?_ the other day. It's stuck in my head."

"You're doing it way better than I would," Casey said.

"I dunno about that," he said. "Have you ever tried? It's all about rhythm."

"Rhythm."

"Yep," Noel said. "You take dance classes, right?"

"For many years," Casey said.

"So you would have a lot more rhythm than I do," Noel said. "Piece of cake."

Casey decided to make an attempt. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she said, leaning in for a peck before they got interrupted by the guy running the little concession window clearing his throat.

"Oops," Noel said. "Hey."

"Do you have veggie dogs?" Casey asked, trying to hide how embarrassed she was.

"Veggie dogs is it?" Noel asked, trying his hand at an Irish accent. "D' you think I'm made out of money?"

"Veggie dogs? Please," the guy running the concession stand said. "We're lucky these are kosher."

Noel further ingratiated himself by remembering what everybody wanted, even when Casey forgot. Also he helped her carry it. The only unfortunate thing was that, during the second half, he actually started following the game.

"What the heck was that?" Noel yelled as someone did something stupid on the ice. This was cute in a cat chasing a string sort of way, but Casey looked at her watch, not sure that she could take another hour of this. She couldn't watch all of these sticks and projectiles flying around without worrying about someone getting hit. She'd been peeking through her fingers when all the jumping and screaming alerted her to the fact that they'd won the game. She took her hands away from her eyes to see Derek's team piling onto each other. She covered her eyes again.

Noel nudged her "Casey," he said. "It's okay to look now."

"Nope," Casey said. "Skates, razor sharp blades everywhere, just flying around. Nope, not looking."

"They wear padding you know."

"Don't care," Casey said. "Just tell me when they stop."

"Aw," Noel said. He put an arm around her shoulders and rested his chin on her shoulder. He wore good cologne and it made her feel guilty for wearing the cheaper bath store stuff again. But she had sense enough to turn her head and kiss him at the right moment this time.

"Woohoo!" Marti cheered, making Noel laugh and break the kiss. Casey and Noel tried to shoot stern looks her way, but since it was Marti, neither of them could pull it off.

"How 'bout we meet you kids outside in a few?" George said.

"'Kay," Casey said. Meaning "Whatever, get lost." George chuckled and picked up Marti, who was still watching them, and carried her off.

"George is probably thinking pizza," Casey said. "Wanna come?"

"Okay," Noel said. "As long as you protect me from Edwin."

"Lizzie's got a good handle on that," Casey said.

They made their way down the bleachers, another thing that made Casey nervous, because all she needed was to take a header down those rickety things, in front of half the school and most of Logan High as well. Noel held onto her all the way down.

"And I thought chivalry was dead," Casey said, once they were safely at the bottom.

"Chivalry-shmivalry," Noel said. "I figured you were less likely to fall than I was, so..."

"Yeah, for future reference," Casey said. "That's something you don't want to say out loud."

"Good to know," Noel said.

On their way out, Casey noticed some people from channel 10 setting up to shoot and her curiosity took over. It was Noel's idea to get a little closer and eavesdrop, and Casey was all too happy to go with it. A reporter got a sound bite from Coach Kaminsky. Then she asked for the team captain.

"Ooh?" Casey said.

"Derek?" Noel asked.

"Derek," Casey said. "Just when I thought his head couldn't get any bigger. He's _really_ gonna be impossible now."

"Derek? Okay," Coach said. "We can do that. I'll just grab him and his terp and you'll be all set."

"His what?" the reporter asked.

"His sign language interpreter," Coach said.

"Your team captain's deaf?"

"Yeah," Coach said, shrugging. "You might not need the terp, but he's good to have around just in case. Nice guy. I don't _think_ he's left yet." Coach Kaminski, to his credit, seemed oblivious to the look of shock on the reporter's face.

Once Coach was safely out of earshot, the reporter turned to his cameraman and said "Shit. What kind of interview is this gonna be?"

"Is this guy for real?" Noel said in Casey's ear.

She felt her face getting a little hot. She was just _waiting_ for the guy to say more. Just lately, she'd had to stop herself from beating the hell out of Tara Simmons whom she caught ranting about Derek's recent absence from rehearsal. Mrs. Z. had been really cool about rearranging his rehearsals because of the playoffs, and something about that didn't sit well with Tara, who apparently didn't like the idea of him being in a play at all. This would have been all well and good had Tara not started trying to do what she thought was an accurate Deaf voice. Nobody, including Tara's best friend Cori, had been amused by this, but it still took a lot of effort to talk Casey out of something that would have gotten her suspended. It hadn't been the first time she'd seen someone do what Tara had done, but the unexpectedness of someone doing it in Drama Club, a place where Casey usually felt so safe, had made her a little crazy.

Noel had been one of the people responsible for talking her down, and Casey guessed he knew what she was thinking. "Case?" he asked. "Maybe we should just wait outside."

"No," Casey said, as firmly as she could manage.

"Okay," Noel said, rubbing her shoulders. "If you're sure."

Derek and Gary, his interpreter, came out, both of them signing back and forth about how they were going to do the interview, whether Gary would be voicing for him or what. Derek told him that he'd be okay voicing for himself. This from someone so nervous he'd barely said three words all day. The Coach, less clueless than he looked might have tipped him off to the reporter's attitude.

"Hey," Derek said, extending a hand. "Derek Venturi. This is Gary Cosgrove."

"Jason Cohen," the reporter said, shaking both hands after giving Gary a chance to spell his name out for Derek.

The interview itself was pretty quick, but Derek handled it like nothing Casey had ever seen. He was doing a little bit less lipreading than usual—he must have been exhausted, but even when she watched the broadcast later, she could only barely see his eyes flick to Gary for help.

Derek acknowledged the hat trick he'd gotten, but gave the major credit to Sam, who'd scored the winning goal. He was careful to emphasize the fact that he was part of a team.

"Is anyone else on the team deaf?" Jason asked.

"Nope," Derek said. "Just me."

"What are some of the challenges that you face as the only deaf member of a hearing team?" Jason asked.

Derek's smile tightened. "They're all used to me by now. We've made some adjustments, like we have Gary." He pulled Gary into the frame to wave at the camera. "Everybody knows a few signs. Sam's fluent, probably better than me. And there's a light that flashes when the buzzer goes off, so that I know when the period ends."

"And you don't use hearing aids or a cochlear implant?" Jason asked.

"No, I don't," Derek said.

"Well," Jason said, a little too brightly. "You're an extraordinary young man. Is there anything you'd like to say to the people watching at home?"

"I'm single," Derek said, grinning.

Noel stifled some laughter behind Casey, but she was too busy beaming at Derek, who had yet to notice her standing there. Gary had seen her, though, and pointed her out after the reporter and cameraman left.

"What are you doing here?" Derek said. He nodded politely at Noel and turned back to Casey for her answer.

_Watching you own that reporter_, she thought. "I had a craving for hot dogs and violence," she said. Gary, knowing how tired Derek was, just went ahead and translated.

Derek's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing on TV," Casey signed.

"The 'rents dragged you," Derek said.

"No," she said, unconvincingly.

Derek laughed and signed "Bullshit." There was no mistaking that sign. Derek folded his arms and made one hand the head of the bull and the other hand was the very busy business end.

"Language!" Casey said, as if she'd never cursed him out. Derek, Noel, and Gary laughed at her.

"I think I'll leave you guys to, whatever," Gary said. "Keep him out of trouble."

"I'll try," Casey said.

"I need food," Derek said. "Where we going?"

"Pizza place," Casey said, signing "Pizza."

"You coming?" Derek asked Noel.

"I guess," Noel said, nodding and shrugging.

"Stall everybody," Derek said. "Be right there."

Derek showered and changed in about ten minutes and came running out with his hair wet, steam coming off of his head so that both Mom and George fussed over him, telling him he'd catch his death. George all but shoved him into the heated Prince. Casey, Noel and Lizzie piled into Mom's car, also heated like a steam room.

At the pizza place, over his Sicilian slice, Edwin, in all innocence, asked if they could get milkshakes on the way home. Derek missed this, but Casey shuddered, remembering being painted with the stuff the other day and feeling a little residual embarrassment for panicking and dousing Derek with it. She'd just needed to get away for a minute before she made a fool of herself. He'd been so close...

"What's the matter?" Noel asked.

"It's below zero and this one wants ice cream," Casey lied.

"So?" Edwin said. "I want some chocolate. What's so weird about that?"

Casey couldn't think of anything to say to that, so she just shuddered again.

"Are you really that cold?" Noel asked.

"She just wants your jacket," Edwin said.

"Hmm," Noel said. "Had a feeling I was asleep on the job." He started to wiggle out of his jacket.

"Don't," Casey said. "I'm not cold. Just suggestible."

"Are you sure?" Noel sat with his jacket half on, half off.

"I'm sure," Casey said. "But thanks for the offer." She leaned over and pecked him lightly, half expecting an "ew" from someone or other. When she didn't get one, she looked up again. Edwin was grabbing another slice and breaking off a piece of it for Marti. Lizzie was weaving together a couple of straw wrappers in some complicated way and pretending that she hadn't been watching Casey and Noel kiss. Derek, however, was a different story. His plate held his undivided attention. This was normal enough. But he wasn't eating. He was just staring at it.

She waved at him.

"What's wrong?" she signed when he looked up.

He shrugged and shook his head like he couldn't think of anything that could possibly be wrong. She gestured at the pizza that he'd barely touched. He was still working on his first slice.

"Thinking about tomorrow?" she signed. He was terrified of his road test. That had to be it. He was having a really good time until a few minutes ago.

"No," he signed, indignantly.

She wanted to say "Come on, what's a little road test to the kid who just upstaged the channel 10 sports guy?" But she couldn't do that. She'd say it to anyone else without thinking twice, but she couldn't say anything of the kind to Derek. It was just not _them_.

"What?" Derek said out loud, making her realize that she was staring.

She smiled. "I need a ride to the mall tomorrow night," she signed.

"How nice for you," Derek said.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Casey said. "Drop me off at the mall tomorrow."

"Dream on, Princess," Derek said. "You're lucky I let you sleep in the house. You're not going near my car." He broke off a piece of his pizza and popped it into his mouth. He followed it very quickly with another bite.

"Selfish," she signed. Derek smiled.

"See what I have to live with, Noel?" Casey asked. But she was grinning.

"Yeah," Noel said, grinning back. "Looks like we're on the bus again, huh?"

TBC

A/N: An ASL gloss, in case you want to know, is an attempt at translating ASL to English in writing. It doesn't seem like an easy thing to do, but Casey would totally try.


	40. Chapter 40

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty.

Part One: Nora.

Nora and Lizzie's ASL class was canceled for the day, so both were doing their best to enjoy some unexpected freedom, like a snow day, but without the shoveling or the rock salt. Lizzie was having herself a good time watching cartoons and scarfing cereal with Edwin and Marti, but Nora herself got to deal with a caffeinated husband and an already sweating stepson.

"Abby kicked you out of the delivery room, didn't she, Georgie?" Nora asked.

"All three times," George said. When he wasn't pacing, he was trying to force feed something healthy, or at least healthy-ish to Derek, who looked too green to eat much of anything. And George wasn't looking much better.

So it was decided; cooler heads needed to prevail.

"How about _I_ take Derek to the DMV?" Nora asked.

"Yeah, okay," George said, putting up exactly none of the fight Nora had expected. She stared at him.

"_What_?" George asked. "The DMV gives me nightmares. It's like the principal's office times five."

Nora laughed. "I know what you mean."

"Trust me," George said. "You _don't_."

"You're right," Nora said. "I really never spent that much time in the principal's office." She tapped Derek, who was holding onto a cup of ginger ale as though it held the elixir of life.

"Ready?" she signed.

He nodded and straightened up, putting the cup down. Since he hadn't been paying attention, Nora informed him that she was taking him, and Derek breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hmph," George said, pretending to be offended. Derek didn't notice.

Nora and Derek cut through the living room on their way out. The three kids on the couch did not look up.

"Guys, we're leaving," Nora said, getting the response she expected—three grunts. "Don't you guys want to _say something_ to Derek? Ahem?"

Marti could always be counted on. "Oh yeah," she said, putting her bowl down and hopping over to Derek, who'd been fiddling with his messenger bag. She grabbed him around the waist and when he looked down, signed, "Good luck, Smerek."

He leaned over, thanked her, and kissed the top of her head. Lizzie was next, but instead of hugging, she managed some sort of complicated handshake.

Nora tried Edwin next. "Don't you want to give your brother a hug for luck?"

"No, I value my life way too much," Edwin said.

"Edwin."

"What?"

"Do _something_ at least!"

Edwin waved to get Derek's attention and signed "Don't screw up."

Nora hid her face in her hands but Derek laughed.

"Boys," Nora muttered, grabbing her own coat and following Derek outside.

Derek for his part, managed to at least appear calm for most of the ride. The only thing that eventually betrayed him was his inability to get out of his own seatbelt. Nora moved his hair off his forehead and wouldn't let him wiggle away without a little extra motherly reassurance. She put one hand on either side of his face and turned it toward hers.

"You'll be fine," she said. "You believe that, right?"

He said nothing.

"Riiight?"

"Yeah, okay," he said.

"Fake it till you make it," she said. "I, for one, believe that you'll nail it."

"Thanks," he said, a breathless little squeak. Nora made a show of touching up her lipstick in the rearview mirror and moving to kiss him on the forehead. Needless to say, _that_ reminded him how to work both the seatbelt and the doorhandle.

Part Two: Derek.

Derek's examiner looked like her face would fall off of her head if she smiled.

"I am Olga Filipova," she said, pointing to her nametag as she said her name. She knew some signs, especially the ones for the basic commands like "turn left," "wrong lane," or "stop up ahead." Throughout the actual road test, he kept his eyes mostly on the road, but the few times he did glance at her, the sour look never once left her face. So Derek couldn't tell how he was doing for the life of him. Granted, he relied on facial expressions more than most, but her stoneface would have driven anyone nuts. He thought it was a pretty safe guess that her voice didn't give much away either.

In the end, he pulled back into the DMV parking lot with the car in one piece. He'd been a little slow pulling into a lane at one point and there was the matter of his hands shaking whenever they weren't on the wheel, but he didn't think he'd done too badly. Until, of course, he shut off the ignition and turned to look at Olga as she wrote on her clipboard. He watched her write what might have been a translation of War and Peace into Pig Latin and said nothing.

Finally she looked up. She said something that he didn't understand.

"Sorry," he said. "Say that again?" She clearly had an accent _and _mumbled so it was really difficult to follow her.

"(mumble mumble)— drove like you, (mumble) be safer place," she said.

He blinked at her. She turned the clipboard around and showed him his passing score. She quickly tore a scrap of paper from underneath the form she'd been writing on and wrote _Congratulations_ on it.

"Really?"

"I do not joke," Olga said. And the weirdest thing happened: the corners of her mouth quirked up.

"Oh my God," Derek said, hugging her before he could think of anything else.

"Okay," Olga said, putting on her stern face again. "Now get out of car." She handed him his slip and sent him on his way.

Nora waited for him inside the DMV. It would have been nice if he'd been able to fool her, at least for a second into thinking that he'd bombed it, but his face wouldn't allow it. He didn't even realize that he'd been smiling so widely until Nora matched him tooth for tooth and then squeezed him like an almost empty tube of toothpaste. Full of surprises, Nora was. There was no way he would've guessed she was that strong. Then, she took out her phone and he had to stop her from hitting speed dial.

"What're you doing?" he asked. Nora gave him a "what's it look like I'm doing," look.

"What?" she asked. "You sure you wanna wait? Because your father's about to have kittens."

Derek gave her his best puppy face.

"Okay," she said, putting the phone back into her pocket. "So we'll keep the suspense going. Meanwhile, you'd better get on line or else we'll never get out of here." She pointed. The line wasn't too long, but it didn't seem to be moving all that fast. This didn't matter much to him. Suddenly he had all the patience in the world.

Seriously, the place was awesome. They even let Derek approve the license picture. He couldn't understand why his Dad hated this place so much.

All told, it was another hour before he had the temporary license in his hands and could leave.

In the parking lot, Nora tossed him the keys, then laughed at him as he giggled like a little girl. Part of him wanted to get some drive-thru because he was hungry and because he really liked the feel of the word "drive-thru." It had "drive" in it. But, just before he opened his mouth to suggest it, he remembered that if you couldn't hear the voice of the clerk over the speaker, you couldn't order from a drive-thru. He could have just gone into McDonalds, but how special would that have been?

_Meh_, he thought. He made it up to himself by taking the scenic route home. When he finally pulled into the driveway and shut off the ignition, he realized that Nora was laughing at him again.

"What's funny now?" he signed.

"You're so serious!" she signed.

"Whatever," he signed.

"Now," Nora said. "You want me to play along, right?"

"Nah," Derek said. "I blew it. Edwin just saw me pull up." He'd seen Edwin peeking through the living room curtain.

"We should have parked a couple blocks away and switched places," Nora said, undoing her seatbelt. Derek was just locking up the car when Edwin came bounding out of the house, in a t-shirt and sweatpants, even though it was March. Marti trailed close behind him, but she'd had sense enough to put on a coat.

"Where's your coat, Loser?" Derek signed.

"In the house," Edwin signed, shrugging. Derek shook his head. The Devil in Derek wanted to keep Edwin outside as long as possible, but Nora was already trying to herd the three of them into the house.

The first thing that Derek noticed when he got inside was that the house smelled like a diner—the combination of maple syrup, sausage, bacon and coffee. They were throwing him a celebration brunch. He wondered if this was what Heaven smelled like.

Dad dropped what he'd been doing and got all huggy and it was all Derek could do to fight him off. Dad gushed about how Derek was the first Venturi male to pass the road test on his first try. Apparently the driving gene was a recessive one. This was further proven by the state of the Prince before Derek and his Dad had started fixing it up.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Edwin signed, sitting down.

"What day?" Derek signed, knowing he was being set up, but going with it anyway.

"The day they gave you a license."

"See if I ever give you a ride."

"Can I have a ride?" Marti signed.

"Yes, Smarti," Derek signed. "You can have a ride. Where do you want to go?"

"Disneyland."

"Where else?"

"France."

Derek bit his lip. "We don't have enough gas to get to France," he signed.

"I can wait," Marti signed. "How about Chuck E. Cheese?" He knew a couple of kids who worked at Chuck E. Cheese. He weighed the possible humiliation of being seen there against the possibility of some sort of discount.

"Okay," He signed. She hugged him. He looked around the room at Edwin, Dad, Nora and Smarti. Someone was missing. He knew Casey would be at her assorted classes for most of the day, but where in the heck was Lizzie? He was going to ask when Lizzie came out with the pancakes, looking stressed and a little sweaty.

All signs pointed to Lizzie's first foray into pancakery. They were a little misshapen, but none of them were burnt and they smelled wonderful.

Derek went for the obvious joke. "Great," he said. "What's everyone else eating?"

"Dream on," Edwin said, grabbing the platter away from him. He took a couple and gave some to Marti, then passed it on. Derek took his usual four and dug in, ignoring the nervous look Lizzie gave him. She wasn't quite Casey-level nervous, but there was an unacceptable amount of tension going on. He didn't see what there was to be afraid of; at worst they would be a little heavy, but pancakes were pancakes and any pancakes were better than no pancakes. Especially if they had chocolate chips. And these did. Anyway, even if they were completely inedible, he would have managed to eat them, if for nothing else than to wipe that nervous look off of Lizzie's face and back on to Casey's where it belonged.

They _were_ a little heavy. Not too bad, though, and she was generous with the chocolate. As far as Derek was concerned, that made her Pancake Queen. So as she toyed with her own single one, afraid to dig in, he leaned over and asked, "You gonna eat that?"

"I'm waiting to see if you fall over before I try it," Lizzie said. Next to him, Edwin flailed around a little before clutching his throat and pretending to die. Marti looked at him like he was nuts and that was so hysterical that it set Derek off for a good five minutes.

After they ate, they all more or less collapsed onto the couch and into assorted chairs in the living room. Derek started to doze a little bit, but woke up when Nora ran to pick up the phone.

"Casey!" she said.

"Tell her I failed," Derek signed.

"Oh," Nora said into the phone. "Well..." She said something, anxiously, then took three deliberate steps so that Casey could hear her walking.

_Holy crap, she's really gonna do it_, Derek thought. _What have we done to Nora?_

"He choked," Nora said. He gave her thumbs up. Marti covered her mouth to stifle the giggles. Even Dad looked impressed. Only Lizzie shook her head.

"I don't know," Nora said. She said something about the pressure Derek was under, what with all the hockey stuff, and that he'd almost puked on the examiner.

That part was true, actually. But, for the record, that day was yark-free. He was proud of himself.

"I know," Nora said into the phone. She wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder and signed "You're going to Hell."

People kept telling him that. "I'll save you a seat," he signed. She stuck her tongue out. Dad looked like he wanted to marry her all over again.

When she got off the phone, she gave Derek a stern look and said. "I hope you're happy. She's upset for you."

"Why?"

"Take a guess," Nora said.

Derek rolled his eyes and tried to hide the little bit of guilt that he felt. "Why's she gotta be such a Casey?"

Marti tapped him.

"You should go pick her up from class," she signed. "And take her for ice cream. And me too."

Edwin laughed at her, but Derek bet he was annoyed that he didn't think of it himself.

"Might work," Derek signed. "And she probably won't kill me in front of you."

Part Three: Casey.

For the last hour or so of her ASL class, Casey had to fight off a low grade disappointment. She wasn't disappointed _in_ Derek so much as disappointed _for_ him. Anyone could have test anxiety after all, but the timing of this just sucked. She hoped it didn't screw up his confidence too much. It occurred to her that, with the possible exception of his relationship with Kendra, (which was just as much Kendra's fault) she hadn't seen him screw anything up yet. She'd seen him angry, obviously, but she'd never seen him really disappointed and couldn't picture it. Derek was the sort of guy who pretty much got anything he wanted. It was just the way the universe ran and no amount of fighting against it had changed it thus far.

_Yep,_ she thought. _This was going to suck._

Casey thought of things that she could do to help take his mind off his problems. At that moment, Casey pictured Edwin using every bit of energy he had trying to make Derek laugh. Maybe when she got home, she decided, _she_ could take a pratfall or two of her own. Every little bit helped.

She was still thinking of this when she walked out of the community center and began to cut through the parking lot. She walked right by the Prince at first, but then stopped and doubled back. Derek sat behind the steering wheel and winked when he saw her looking.

"De-rek!" she said. "What the—"

Like Edwin doing a card trick, Derek whipped out a little laminated card that turned out to be his temporary license. George had one of those little desktop laminating machines and jumped at every chance to use it.

"You—" Casey began. Then she saw Marti in the back seat, waving at her and stop herself from saying what she wanted to say. "De-_rek_!"

"Do you want a ride or what?" Derek said. "I don't have all day here."

She opened the door and climbed in, putting on her seatbelt automatically. If she was going to yell at him, she could at least do it in a warm car. And the car was so nice and warm. Bliss. And there was Derek at the wheel, looking all cute and proud of himself.

_Focus_, she thought.

"Mom had me believing you were all upset!" she said.

"Yeah," Derek said. "Can't believe she actually went along with it. She was so cool."

"Oh, I'll have a talk with her later," Casey said. Derek chuckled and it was contagious, so she had to smile. She gave up then, taking a deep breath.

"I guess this is for you," she said, digging into her bag and pulling out a little package. "I didn't have a chance to wrap it."

He ripped open the paper bag and pulled out the little pine tree air freshener she'd gotten him as a gag gift.

He grinned. "_New car smell_," he read. He opened the package a little and hung it from the ashtray. "Thanks, Case!"

There was a moment of silence then, and although Casey wasn't mad at him anymore, she didn't really want to let him know that. She did her best to look like her nose was out of joint.

"So Smarti says I need to take you out for ice cream to make up for messing with you," Derek said.

"Oh really?" Casey asked. Derek undid his seatbelt and twisted in his seat to see Marti's response.

"Uh-huh," Marti said. "And Derek said you couldn't kill him with me watching."

Casey waited till Derek stopped laughing. "Well, Marti," she said. "You'll have to sleep sometime."

"Won't you protect me, Smarti?" Derek signed.

"No hurting Smerek," Marti said, dutifully. Derek nodded in approval.

"Okay," he said. "You guys ready?"

They confirmed that they were, and Derek turned around and redid his seatbelt. Then he pulled out of the lot and into traffic.

Obviously there was no talking to him while he drove, so she was at a loss for what to do. She watched him for a bit, while trying to look like she wasn't watching him. He was calm, serious driver, focusing really hard on what he was doing. She was surprised at how safe she felt with him.

At the ice cream shop, she informed Derek that he was paying because she was still mad at him. He put up a token fight, but, it turned out that George had slipped him cash for this very purpose.

The girl behind the counter knew him and asked if he wanted the usual—triple chocolate mocha shake—but he shuddered and asked for a medium coffee. It was nice to know that she wasn't the only one who was having that reaction to chocolate shakes. For her part, Casey got a hot cider. Marti looked at both of them like they'd grown second heads. Who went into an ice cream shop and got coffee, she wanted to know. She asked for a scoop of bubblegum ice cream. They grabbed a table and Marti bounced to the Gwen Stefani song playing. Then Derek let her have a sip of his coffee and she bounced a little harder, cracking Derek up. It was mostly placebo effect, though, because there was no way that his coffee was that strong, not from _this_ place, nor would it act that fast, so Casey laughed at her, too.

Derek told her all about his examiner, whom he referred to as Scary Mumbling Olga, signing most of the story. It made Casey realize something. Usually, when Derek, or anyone else, signed around Casey, or Lizzie or their Mom for that matter, they did so slowly. When Derek and Sam signed together, they were much much faster. That day, at the ice cream shop, Derek was signing at his usual rate of speed and Casey was following some of it. She didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, as sort of a test, or if he'd just forgotten. Either way, it felt like a big deal. She wasn't going to say anything, but then Marti noticed and told Derek to slow down for Casey.

He was embarrassed. "Why didn't you say something?" he asked.

"I wanted to see how much I could follow," she said.

"And?"

"Stone-faced scary Olga?" Casey asked. "Let you think you were flunking?"

She knew he'd said way more than that, but he still looked impressed.

"Don't do that again, though," Casey signed. "I'll get dizzy." This, she realized, was exactly how Derek felt after a long day of lipreading people. She had a nagging feeling that Derek hadn't had to use his voice or lipread half as much _before_ the families merged, at least not in his own house. At school and at the mall and stuff, sure, but not at home. She felt really guilty suddenly.

"What's the matter with you?" Derek asked.

"What?" Casey asked.

"You look like someone just spit in your cider, and since I'm all the way over here, I know that didn't happen," he said. "So why do you have that look on your face?"

"Your coffee breath," she said. He breathed on her.

"Real mature," she signed.

"Thank you," he signed.

"I'm being sarcastic," she signed.

"I don't care," he signed.

"You think you're a bigshot," she signed. "Mr. Big TV star, you think."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I didn't even see it," he said.

"Mom recorded it," Casey signed. Derek made a face.

"She'll show you later," Casey signed.

"Does your throat hurt or something?" Derek signed.

"No."

"Aren't your hands tired?"

"I have to practice," Casey signed.

"Okay," Derek said grabbing both of her hands. "Know what? The people who care about you—not me—but the people who care about you are concerned that your keener tendencies are out of control."

Marti nudged him. "_You_ care about her, Smerek."

He shuddered and made a little noise of disgust and Marti looked at him the way she looked at Edwin when he'd tried to convince her that if she swallowed watermelon seeds, one would grow in her stomach.

"I want to get better," Casey said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Know what?" he asked. "You need to chill. This isn't _Little House on the Prairie_. No one expects you to learn to sign by the end of the episode. You realize I was kidding about the tool shed thing, right?"

She went ahead and blurted out what she'd been thinking about him having to lipread at school all day then coming home and having to do it some more and how it wasn't fair to him. She knew that it made him tired.

He rolled his eyes again. "Casey," he said. "Do you really think that it was a voice-off house before you got here?" Derek asked.

"Not completely, but..."

"It wasn't," Derek said. "We all talk a little bit more since you guys invaded—"

Marti nudged him again.

"I mean, since you guys moved in," Derek said. "But we all really like to talk. I don't know if you've noticed."

"Yep," Casey said, nodding.

"And," Derek said, pretending to ignore her. "Unless everyone is lying to me, I'm pretty good at it. Same with reading lips."

"But I read an article somewhere that most good lipreaders still miss more than half of what people say to them." Casey began.

"See?" Derek said. "There's your problem. All the reading. Nothing good can come from reading articles."

"The point is that it's hard to read lips, isn't it?"

"Um," Derek said. "We're doing okay, aren't we?"

"Derek!"

"Sometimes, yeah," Derek said. "So?" He looked down at the table and realized that he still had hold of her hands. Casey, for her part, had really been wanting to scratch her nose, but didn't want to say anything. He let go of her and wrapped his hands around his coffee cup again.

"So don't you hate it?"

"Meh," Derek said. "You know how I feel about people with mustaches. And people who talk with their mouths full."

"But do you really only get, like, thirty percent of what people say?"

"Depends on the person," Derek said. "And you learn to handle it."

"How?"

"Did you ever read something and come across words you don't know? What do you do?"

"I look them up," Casey said.

"_Before_ you look them up," Derek said patiently. "You try to fill in the blanks, right? Figure out what they mean?"

"Like Context Clues!" Marti piped up.

Derek ruffled her hair. This whole time, she'd been doodling on her placemat, and working on the gum that came with her ice cream. It didn't look like she'd been paying attention, but she never missed anything.

"See? Smarti knows," he said. "But, yeah, that's what I do. If that doesn't work, I make people repeat stuff. If that doesn't do it, then, you know." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the notepad that she'd only actually seen him use once since she'd known him.

"Now how did we get on this subject?" Derek asked.

"'Cause you told Casey to stop being a keener, and she said she just wants to sign as good as us to make you comf'table," Marti said.

"As _well_ as _we_ _do_," Casey corrected, but it just served to derail Marti's train of thought for a second.

"Huh?" she asked.

"Nevermind," Casey said.

"Okay," Marti said. She tried to blow a bubble with her gum, with partial success. Then she popped it with her tongue, one of those noises that Casey could really live without.

There was a particularly awkward silence then. Derek was embarrassed and Casey knew it but still had questions for him. She thought that this was some of the basic stuff that they could've talked about early on. Or at least they could have if they'd had that kind of relationship.

It bugged her that they didn't have that kind of relationship. She'd been living in a house with him for seven months already and still felt like she barely knew him. She could write _books_ about Edwin and Marti for Pete's sake.

"You're making that face again," Derek said. "I am having an awesome day. You are not allowed to make that face on my awesome day, understood?"

Casey scowled.

"That's better," Derek said.

Casey let the subject drop, like she usually did.

Part Four: Lizzie.

On Sunday, Derek had another game, which meant that the entire house revolved around him. Again. Lizzie could not remember another time in her life that she so looked forward to Monday. The weekend just could not end fast enough.

Casey had sense enough to go to the mall during the worst of the Derek stress, but Lizzie still had to finish her book report on _The Outsiders_, then she had to help Marti with her math. So there was no escape while Derek wandered the house in search of something to take his mind off of hockey for a couple of hours.

This included Derek parking himself on the edge of Lizzie's bed and asking her what she was working on. It took nothing short of a threat to make him proofread her essay to get him to leave so that she could finish.

Truly, the only good thing about this miserable Sunday afternoon was that Edwin was in no position to say "I told you so," if only because he was too busy trying to keep Derek entertained.

Edwin put all he had into the task, though. He spent almost an hour dancing to one of Mom's 80's mix CDs (Lizzie's idea), the bass turned up high enough to rattle stuff on the coffee table, so that Derek could feel it. For a few minutes, Marti tried to join Edwin, but after he bumped into her for the third time, her self-preservation instinct kicked in and she sat with Lizzie, where it was safe. Halfway through, Casey and Emily came in and saw him trying to moonwalk. They watched him for a minute or so until he noticed them standing there and promptly fell over. It might or might not have been on purpose. Emily put down her shopping bags and helped him up and then she and Casey tried to teach him how to do some of those eighties dances that you only ever saw in really old videos, stuff with names like "the Roger Rabbit" and "the Snake." The sight of Casey and Emily (_especially_ Casey) dancing around the living room, even doing dorky stuff like that, made sure that Edwin was off the hook. Lizzie would even bet her allowance that Derek forgot Edwin _existed_.

It took Edwin himself an extra minute or two to notice that he wasn't the star of the show anymore. He looked a little put out by this, but then he realized what Derek was looking at and shrugged.

He held his hand out for Lizzie.

"Nope," Lizzie said.

"Pweeze?"

"_No_."

"Teach you how to breakdance?" Edwin asked.

"_You_ don't know how to breakdance," Lizzie said.

"I won't tell if you don't," Edwin said, grinning. He tried to pull her up off the couch, but she made herself heavy, with Marti's help.

Meanwhile, Derek openly laughed at Casey and that made her clown around a little more. By the time Mom and George came in with the groceries, Casey was doing the Carlton and Derek had fallen out of his recliner.

Mom, of course, broke the spell. She couldn't resist coming in and bumping hips with Casey. Mom could really dance, but there was no way that she could ever have the same effect that Casey had. It gave Derek time to catch his breath,though.

Emily helped him up and he hugged her.

"Thanks," Derek signed. "I needed that."

"Anytime," Emily signed.

Casey held out her arms and Derek, for just a second, looked like he'd actually hug her. Lizzie stole a look at Edwin, who was transfixed. But then Derek patted Casey on the head.

"No noogies?" Edwin said, indignantly. Derek happened to be looking at him when he said that, so _he_ got noogied.

"How's that?" Derek asked, on his way to the kitchen.

"Great," Edwin muttered.

Casey shook her head to clear it, then turned to Emily. "So let's go upstairs and I can try that top on with my black skirt."

"Kay," Emily said, following her up.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Lizzie said, when they were alone.

"What is a 'dutchie' and why do you 'pass it on the left hand side'?" Edwin asked.

"Edwin!"

"I know! I know," Edwin said. "It's like they can't even hide it anymore."

"What are they gonna do?" Lizzie asked.

Edwin shook his head.

Part Five: Sam.

After a messy, bloody nightmare of a game, the team beat St. Francis Prep. No one was more surprised than they were. After multiple penalties and not a few injuries on both sides, Ryan Conlin blocked St. Francis' last shot and looked down at it like he'd never seen a hockey puck up close before. He looked up and then down once more, then locked eyes with Sam before everyone piled on him and the cheering started. The next few minutes were a little fuzzy. There was showering and pretty soon all Sam wanted was to go find Lana so they could neck a little before he straight up collapsed.

The funniest part of this was that somehow Lassiter expected them to be in school the next day. It would be tough, but Sam thought he could do it. As long as nobody expected him to be conscious or upright at any point.

Derek was giddy. It was funny to watch because watching him bounce around reminded Sam of the times they've had to babysit Marti. Derek at that moment was pretending that he wasn't even a little tired. He could stay up all night. He might never sleep again! In reality, he'd be lucky if he made it all the way outside with both eyes open and would most certainly crash in the car on the way home. Ryan, Steve, Mikey, and the rest of the guys were being a little bit more open about their exhaustion, and Coach looked like he'd just given birth.

All of this would be very funny in the morning.

He ran into all of Derek's people in the parking lot. They'd parked near the exit, George sitting on the hood of one car, Casey hovering nearby. Everyone else had sense enough to wait inside the cars where it was warm. Sam thought he'd get past them with just a "Hey!" and a "See ya later," but Casey mauled him.

"Oh my God, Oh my God, ohmigod," Casey said in his ear. It was like she thought she'd never see him again.

"Casey," Sam said. "Can't breathe."

"Have I mentioned that I hate this game?" Casey said.

"You might've," Sam said, still struggling.

"Way too violent," Casey said. "People got hurt."

"Casey," Sam said, in what sounded to him like his Dad's voice. "Listen to me. I'm not hurt. _Derek_'s not hurt. The people who _did_ get hurt didn't get hurt too badly."

"They could've been," Casey said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "They could've been hurt walking down the street, too. They're gonna be okay. Alright?"

"There's slightly less chance of getting hit with sticks or pucks or cut with skates on the street, Sam," Casey said. "And you guys do this _willingly_."

"Yep," Sam said, smiling at her. "Not much point in trying to understand it."

Casey shook her head.

"So, where's your other half?" he asked.

"Isn't it a little early to call him that?" Casey asked. Sam shrugged. "He had a family thing."

"Should've known," Sam said. "If Noel were here, you wouldn't have had to watch the game."

"Shut up," Casey said. Then she forgot all about Sam because Derek came out.

"De-_rek_!"

Every once in a while there's a disaster movie with a shot of someone realizing too late that there's a meteor headed directly for their upturned face. Their eyes widen and they barely have time to open their mouths much less scream before the ka-boom. That was Derek when the Casey shaped missile headed for him.

He was too tired to pretend to hate it or put up much of a struggle. His arms had even closed around her for a second before he realized what he was doing. All he could do was look to Sam for a translation to what this girl could possibly be murmuring into his shoulder as she squished him.

"You're being yelled at," Sam signed. "Hockey, violence, evil, you could've been hurt."

Derek nodded.

"Casey," Derek said, without a hell of a lot of conviction. "Case."

"What?" Casey said, looking up. He stared at her for a second before he said anything. He just looked into her big, wet eyes.

_Holy sh— _Sam thought.

"What did I tell you about personal space?" He let go of her and angled his head away from her as if he'd like nothing more than to take a Lysol bath when he got home. He fooled nobody, with the possible exception of Casey.

"You're such a jerk," Casey said, letting go of him. "And if you get your silly butt killed out there, don't come running to me!"

Sam managed not to laugh at that. Derek didn't laugh either, but he probably didn't understand her. George had a little more trouble keeping it together.

"What's so funny!?!"

"Nothing," George said, biting his lip. Casey growled at him before climbing into the front of Nora's car. In George's car, Edwin and Marti seemed to be making a Lizzie sandwich, both leaning on her while semiconscious. Edwin, by the looks of him, was going in and out, but Lizzie was wide awake and taking mental notes. It must've been her shift. Nora, behind the wheel already, was shaking her head at Derek and Casey, and it made Sam wonder what she knew. Though, to be fair, she might not have known anything. The two of them were annoying, even if you didn't think they were in love and had possibly been about to kiss in the middle of this freezing parking lot.

Sam really wanted to pull Derek aside right then, but he was too tired and knew that Derek wasn't in any fit state to listen. But, as Sam went to find his own family, he decided that somebody really needed to have a talk with Derek.

TBC

A/N: A couple of things. Derek passed his driver's test. This is a huge deviation from canon, but a necessary one. Even in this day and age, a lot of people underestimate the ability of a deaf person to drive. Derek, who would know this, would work his butt off to prove otherwise. So he wouldn't bomb the test.

Also, I'm aware that in Ontario, one usually does not take the road test at sixteen. It seemed like the show ignored this, so I am hoping that I get away with ignoring it, too.


	41. Chapter 41

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty-One.

Part One: Casey.

After they'd broken up, it had taken Sam a while to stop acting like he knew her feelings better than she did. He'd promised to leave her alone about it months ago, but Sunday night, after the game, there was that look again. This time, instead of anger or jealousy, the look was laced with a little pity. Hugging Derek hadn't exactly been the smartest move she could've made, but that was no reason for Sam to give her that caught red-handed look. She hadn't done anything wrong. Hockey just made her protective, is all.

Then he patted Derek's shoulder, gave Casey a quick "later" and took off, leaving Casey fuming. Everybody thought she was mad at Derek for insulting her but he always insulted her; she knew he didn't usually mean it. But she didn't set anybody straight because then she'd have to explain why she was mad at Sam. Nobody ever got mad at _Sam_.

So she tried to busy herself with other things, like helping to lure semi-conscious kids out of George's car and proofreading essays that really didn't need proofreading if she were really being honest with herself. She was checking her email when she was interrupted.

"Don't you have to be up early?" Derek asked.

"Me?" Casey asked. "What about you? What are you doing up?" She was surprised he'd made it all the way up the stairs before.

By way of explanation, he held up a the last little bit of a sandwich. She should have known. Derek, being Derek, barged in then and looked over Casey's shoulder to see what she was doing. She tried to close the email that Emily'd sent her with the animated kittens before Derek could see it, but his reflexes were faster than hers.

As expected, he chuckled and shook his head at her. He sat on the edge of her bed and promptly got little bits of bacon on her bedspread.

"Why are you here?" Casey asked brushing the bacon off of her quilt before it stained...much.

"Why am I here?" Derek signed chewing the last of his sandwich. "I live here." He wiped his hands on the leg of his pajama pants.

Casey folded her arms across her chest and waited for him to cut the crap.

"Okay," Derek said. "I wanna know what was up with you before."

"What do you mean 'what was up with me before?'" Casey asked.

Derek took one of her hands and showed it to her, as if she were somehow unaware of how much she'd chewed her nails over the past few hours and how there were little ragged flakes on nail polish still clinging to them because she knew that the nail polish remover was going to sting if she used it then.

She pulled her hand back. "Shut up," she signed.

He looked a bit like he wanted nothing more than to shut up and go to his own room, but something told her that she wasn't going to be that lucky.

"Also, we do not hug each other," Derek signed. It struck Casey how close the sign for "hug" was to the sign for "love" and it took her a second to realize that he'd meant one and not the other.

"Normal people hug," Casey signed.

"Good for them" Derek signed. "That's not us."

"Not _you _maybe," Casey said.

"Not you either," Derek said.

"I always hug," Casey signed. She knew expecting him to do too much lipreading that late at night would be pushing it.

"That doesn't make you normal," Derek said.

"Why are you doing this?" Casey signed. "Stop joking around."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Casey," he said, slurring the -s again. She rubbed her arms to stop the goosebumps. He could say "she sells seashells by the seashore" and it wouldn't bother her. But if he called her Kay-shee, she was sunk.

"Stop being so serious," he said. When she continued to scowl at him, he crossed his eyes. "Come on, Case." Kaysh.

"Listen," he said. "You need to lighten up. It's n-nice that you come to my games. Even though I know it's not your idea."

She couldn't deny it. She opened her mouth to explain herself, though, and he put his hand on her arm to stop her.

"Because you hate hockey," he said. "I know. But you came anyway. You still could've stayed home."

"Really?" Casey said. "You could've fooled me."

Derek grinned at her. "There's hope for you yet," he said. "But I'm saying. If it makes you that nervous, you don't have to come, okay?"

_Not okay_, she thought. "No," she said. "You better believe that I expect your butt in the seat when I do dance recitals and stuff." She'd been so busy that she hadn't done one in forever, but still, he was coming if she ever did one. "It's only fair that I come to your playoff games."

"It's different" Derek signed.

"How?" Casey signed.

"I'm not gonna spend the whole recital worrying about you falling off the stage," Derek said. "Oh wait, yes I am." Then he spelled out K-L-U-T-Z-I-L-L-A.

"De-_rek_," she said through clenched teeth. He still understood, laughing at her even as she smacked his arm.

"Get out," she signed. "Go to bed!" He leaned back and pretended to get comfortable on her bed. She tugged at his arm but managed to do little besides mess up her bedspread. She looked around for something to hit him with. He grabbed her pillows and flung them away before she could reach them, so she took off one of her slippers and whacked him with it, but the things weren't sturdy enough to be satisfying. Finally, she picked up one of the cheap body sprays that she got from the bath store and let him know that if he did not vacate her room immediately, he'd not only smell like Sugared Vanilla, he'd _sparkle_, too.

"You do that, and I'll let a skunk loose in here," Derek said.

She sniffed at him. "I thought you did."

He looked at her like he just could not believe she'd said that. He was so impressed that he struggled with keeping his voice down as he laughed. Normally _she_'d struggle with the temptation to tickle him until he woke the dead, but it was nearly midnight. Once he had it more or less under control, he got up and signed, "Goodnight, Casey."

"Goodnight, Derek," she signed. For his name sign, she tapped the letter D three times against her chest, forming the nickname Triple D, for Daredevil Derek. George told her once that Derek had gotten the name from one of his first teachers, back when he first lost his hearing. Apparently Derek loved to climb things and worry his parents. Some things never change.

Part Two: Sam.

Monday at school, the hockey team was a really big deal. Derek got most of the attention, as usual, but some of it even started to spill over onto Sam. To make things funnier, word spread about Derek being on the local news Friday night and everyone and their brother watched him. Someone even sent Sam a link to the thing on YouTube. He'd enjoyed forwarding it to Derek, relishing the barrage of four letter words he'd gotten in reply.

So many people (mostly, but not exclusively girls) stopped Derek to congratulate/hit on him that Sam almost ran interference. He was able to stop himself, though. Doing stuff like that made him feel a little too much like Scooter to Derek's Kermit. Still, Derek looked pretty pitiful trying to bluff his way through a conversation with Motormouth Tina Micelli. After a minute, he gave up on answering her and just smiled and nodded. She seemed okay with that.

"What the hell did she say?" Derek signed after she left.

"You two have a date on Saturday," Sam signed.

For a second, Derek believed him. Then he came to his senses and punched Sam high up on the arm.

But still, Sam couldn't resist telling Derek something about a puffy shirt.

"I hate you," Derek signed, then headed to English. Sam grinned behind his back but then caught up with him.

He pretended to be insulted. "I always knew you'd ditch me after you hit the big time," Sam said.

Derek didn't miss a beat. "Sammy!" he said. "I could never ditch you. Who'd bring me coffee?"

Sam didn't always use it, but he had one really good Glare of Doom. It came in handy during moments like these.

"And keep me out of trouble?" Derek signed, eyebrows raised.

_Or get you into further trouble_, Sam thought. He knew that he wanted to talk to Derek about what he'd seen the night before, and he thought that Derek might sense this. That meant that he had a narrow window of time before Derek asked out some girl to throw Sam off the trail. Again. Sam wondered if a fake girlfriend could still be called a beard if the guy was straight. One couldn't exactly come out and ask people these things.

"What are you doing after school?" Sam signed after he took his seat.

"Play rehearsal," Derek signed.

"Really?" Sam signed. It was a rare, hockey practice-less day in playoff season. He really wanted to have that talk (probable fight) with Derek, but other than that, Sam mostly planned to sleep.

"Missed a few rehearsals already," Derek signed. "Must drive Casey anyway. Easier to stay." He acted all put-upon at having to drive Casey around, but nobody bought it. First of all, the car was still Derek's favorite new toy and he would have been happy to drive anybody around. Second, and most obvious, it was Casey.

Mrs. Parkinson came in and called the class to order before Sam could say anything else, but he made up his mind to corner Derek after rehearsal. He made that decision early enough to have time to dither over it, Casey-like, the whole day.

Part Three: Derek.

Sam was acting a little off. Derek noticed it, but Ralph was the first one to actually point it out. They were in the cafeteria and Ralph was telling them about his first real drumming 'gig.'

"That's cool," Sam said, before going back to his scoop of mashed potatoes. It wasn't like Sam not to ask for details, but Derek guessed that he was just tired. They were all running on fumes lately. So Derek stepped in.

"Where you playing?" Derek signed.

"The pep rally on Friday!" Ralph signed, proving that it really didn't take much to make him happy.

"They pay you for that?" Derek signed.

"No," Ralph said. He began to pout a little. "Still counts."

Derek shrugged and nodded. He supposed it did still count. Girls liked drummers.

"Just don't wear the vinyl pants," Derek signed.

They were debating about the merits of his cheesy vinyl pants with Sam staring into space next to them. After a while, Ralph couldn't take it anymore.

"Dude," Ralph said, snapping his fingers under Sam's nose.

Sam looked up, all cranky, like they'd just woken him up. "What?"

"What is up with you?" Ralph asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. Sam was a worse liar than Casey.

Sam and Ralph went back and forth for a few minutes, Ralph calling Sam a zombie and wondering what was on his mind. Sam put him off by saying that there was nothing on his mind, that he was too tired to think. Derek accepted that that was half true, but didn't have time to grill him about it.

Rehearsal was notable mainly for all the grabby-touchy-feely that went on between Noel and Casey. They got separated when they had to work on their actual scenes, but whenever anyone _else_ was running lines, there was enough tickling and play fighting to set off Derek's gag reflex. He tried to tune them out, putting his nose into his script whenever he could, but there they were in the corner of his eye. The actual running of lines with Casey wasn't so bad.

"De-rek!" Casey said, putting her script down for the third or fourth time.

"What is it _now_?"

"Do you actually have this stuff memorized?"

"Not really," Derek said. But he did know most of it. They'd spent so much time adapting most of his lines into ASL that Derek had a lot of it down, even after the changes they made. Also, reading the script helped distract him from hockey the past few days. This was a good thing because his competitive nature didn't want him to be less prepared than Casey. This is something that she should have known.

"But you've barely looked at the script," Casey said.

"So?" Derek said, trying to look nonchalant.

She looked at him with her big googly eyes and Derek didn't get what the hell she meant by that look. So he gave it back to her.

"I know how to read, Casey," he signed.

That was enough for her to recover her wits. "I'm shocked," she signed.

"Ha-ha," Derek said. "I can dress myself, too," he signed.

Casey looked him over. "No you can't," she signed. He snickered into his fist.

Then Casey turned her attention to someone behind him. A beat later, he turned to see Mrs. Zeldin, who politely chewed them out for getting off course. Again. Derek was a bit thrown off by the combination of Zeldin's smiling face and her snarky words. It took a second to reconcile the two.

"Sorry, Mrs. Zeldin," Casey said.

Mrs. Zeldin dropped the smile and raised an eyebrow at Derek. "Sorry," he said.

"You don't look sorry," Mrs. Z. said. He tried to look sorrier, hanging his head and digging his toe in some imaginary sand. He peeked at her from under his bangs. She tried not to smile again.

But she made them start over anyway. _Funny_, Derek thought. S_he doesn't __look__ like a hardass. _

Derek noticed, with some satisfaction, that Casey looked at her script more often than he did. There was still a lot to work out, though, and Zeldin kept stopping them, to do stuff like move them around like chess pieces.

They did the big fight scene, and Casey had a lot of fun slamming the prop door in his face. Derek had a lot of fun blocking the door, or failing that, just walking around the free-standing door frame and continuing to bother her. Casey lost it when he did that, and the sight of her shoulders shaking as she tried to ignore him egged him on further. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Do you want to do this all night?" Mrs. Zeldin asked.

_Kinda, _Derek thought, surprised.

"Sorry," Derek lied. He behaved after that, and the two of them had an informal run though. They still had a couple of weeks to go in order to finish memorizing their lines and work out the kinks, and Derek guessed that Zeldin wasn't as mad as she could have been because he knew more lines than she'd expected him to. She'd expected him to be much more behind and she told him so.

"But now that I know what you're capable of," Mrs. Zeldin said. "I expect you to keep it up."

_See? _Derek thought. _This is why I don't work hard. She's never gonna stop riding me now. _

"So, go get some rest and I'll see you Wednesday," she said to both of them. Then, to Derek specifically, she said, "And I hope your interpreter can make it?"

"Oh yeah," Derek said. Christine hadn't been able to stay that day, but she'd already confirmed for Wednesday.

Noel, who had finished up a little earlier, stayed behind, just for Casey.

_How nice of him,_ Derek thought. The nicer the kid was, the more Derek didn't like him. Noel walked Casey to the school parking lot, talking to her the whole time. Derek was a little behind them so he didn't get any of the conversation until they were practically to the car, when Noel decided to walk backwards. Derek could have told him that nothing good came from that, but he kind of wanted to see the kid fall on his ass.

"Okay" Noel was saying. "So I'll tell Sheldon you said no."

Casey answered him. Derek had no idea what she said.

"You (mumble) good though," Noel said. Derek saw the outline of Casey's cheekbone and knew that she was smiling.

Noel looked past Casey to Derek. "Derek would tell you to do it, right Derek?"

"Do what?" Derek asked.

"Sing at the pep rally on Friday," Noel said stopping next to the Prince. "Sheldon says that they need a girl, and Casey's the best singer we know, so..."

"And you think she'll listen to me because..." Derek said.

"She respects your opinion," Noel said.

"Respects my opinion?" Derek asked. Noel nodded.

Derek laughed for a minute, then, when he thought he could speak well enough, he said, "Good one," clapping Noel on the shoulder.

"De-_rek_," Casey said.

"Somebody's in trouble," Noel said.

"Noel Covington!" Casey said.

"Ooh," Noel said, shuddering. He said something about how he was glad she didn't know his middle name. Derek positioned himself next to Noel so he could see her response to that.

"I'll find out what it is," Casey said. "Don't you worry."

"Worry," Derek said.

"I'm worried," Noel said. Then Casey smiled and took a step forward, starting with the kissy-huggy-touchy again, like Derek wasn't even standing there. Derek groaned.

"I'm so gonna leave without you, Case," Derek said. Casey rolled her eyes and pulled away from Noel.

"You need a ride?" Derek asked Noel. S_ay no, say no, say no,_ he thought. Really, he didn't know why he'd ask such a thing. It was like he was trying to be _nice_ or something.

"No, thanks," Noel said. "My ride's coming."

Casey insisted on staying in the cold, nearly empty parking lot until Noel's Mom showed up in a minivan. Why Derek put up with it was anyone's guess. He wanted to leave her there so bad, but of course, he couldn't do that.

After Noel left, Derek climbed into the car, started it up and had to sit there to let it warm up for a few minutes. He could have done this while they were waiting, but somehow that felt like he'd be leaving the lovebirds unsupervised and he couldn't do that.

Having nothing better to do, he turned to Casey. "Why don't you sing on Friday?" he signed.

"No time to practice," Casey signed. "I don't know the song. Too much to do. I'm tired."

Derek nodded. She'd have to be tired to pass up an opportunity to show off.

"Why do you care?" she signed.

"I'm bored," he signed.

"For all you know, I'm the worst singer in the world," Casey said.

"Please," Derek said. "If you were, people would throw stuff, but Smarti looks at you like this." He looked up at her mock-adoringly. "And Edwin says you're good, so..."

Casey smiled. "Derek," she began. She was about to get gooey.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Derek said. He put the car into gear and began pulling out, so she couldn't say anything else to him.

Derek was tired enough to drive straight home, without even the slightest detour, something he hadn't done since getting his license.

Sam was waiting outside, pacing back and forth in front of the door. He'd forgotten all about Sam and whatever was the matter with him. Derek honked the horn and Sam jumped, putting a hand over his heart like he wanted to make sure it was still beating.

"Oops," Derek said. He turned to Casey. "Was that really loud?"

"Just annoying," Casey said.

"Oh, okay," Derek said. He could live with annoying. He shut off the engine and hopped out of the car.

He tried to sign a question, but Sam was already facing Casey who, Derek guessed, was already asking him what was going on. In fact, Casey was at Sam's side faster than Derek could get there.

_So it's not just me_, Derek thought. Casey worried about everything, but this time Derek was thinking the same thing. Something was really going on with Sam.

Casey put on hand on either side of Sam's face and said something to him. Sam's eyes widened.

"No, no," Sam said. He babbled for a few seconds, but as far as Derek could see, he denied anything was really wrong and told Casey to stop overreacting.

"I mean it," Sam told Casey. "It's okay."

She said something else and he said "Yeah, I'm sure." Very quickly, Sam shifted things around so that he was rubbing her arms instead of the other way around. Derek mentally filed that move away for later. It was a good bit of misdirection.

"Nothing," Sam said, answering something else Casey asked. "I just wanna talk to Derek."

"Okay," Derek said. "Upstairs?"

Sam nodded. Once they were safely in Derek's room and the door was shut, he turned to Sam and gestured for him to go ahead and say what was on his mind.

"You won't like this," Sam signed. "I'm sorry."

That made Derek's imagination go in all sorts of interesting directions. A couple of possibilities popped into Derek's head right away. The first was that Sam was moving. The second was that he was gay. He hoped Sam wasn't moving.

"It's about you and Casey. I promised both of you I would stay out of it," Sam signed. "But you almost kissed her last night."

Derek laughed. For once, he hadn't been expecting this.

"Are you kidding?" Derek signed. "This is what you're being all weird about?"

"Yeah, because I know how you get," Sam signed. "And I know you don't want to talk about it."

"Then we're talking about this, why?" Derek signed.

"It's the elephant in the room," Sam signed.

Derek rolled his eyes. The elephant was perfectly happy. He kept to himself. Didn't even leave shells on the floor. Why pick on the elephant?

"Don't deny it," Sam signed.

Derek didn't deny it.

"Nothing's gonna happen, Sam," Derek signed.

"Why not?" Sam signed.

Derek gave him his incredulous face.

"But you want it to happen," Sam signed.

Derek shrugged like this was the most irrelevant thing in the world. "No matter."

"Why?" Sam signed. "It should matter. Why don't you just tell her?"

"No," Derek signed.

"You should."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Sam signed. "You almost kissed her, but then you're the one who pulled away, you idiot."

"She would have knocked my teeth out." Derek signed.

"You know better than that," Sam signed.

"Or maybe Nora would have done it," Derek signed.

"Nora saw you," Sam signed. "I was standing right there. She knows."

"Trust me," Derek signed. "She doesn't." Derek was pretty confident that if Nora knew, she'd have him fixed. Without anesthetic. Using a pair of child's safety scissors, or a nail clipper. Then and only then would his Dad kill him.

Sam waved his hand in front of Derek's face.

"What are you afraid of?" Sam signed.

Derek said nothing.

"Okay—stupid question," Sam continued.

"I'm not afraid," Derek said.

"Yeah you are," Sam said. "Who are you kidding?"

"Sam, she has a boyfriend," Derek signed. "He writes poetry and knows about music and stuff."

"Yeah," Sam signed. "So what? Nothing stopped you when she went out with me."

Derek's eyes narrowed. There was just no need to rub his face in that. Sam held up a hand to make sure Derek didn't interrupt.

"You can't get mad at me for that," Sam signed. "My point is that boyfriend or no, last night you still almost kissed her. You can't help it."

"This guy's perfect for her," Derek signed. "I'll get over it."

"Dude," Sam said. "No you won't."

"Yes, I will," Derek said.

"Derek," Sam said. "It's been months. You won't."

The door, which Derek had closed but not locked, opened a crack and Lizzie poked her head in.

"I really need to hire a guard," Derek said. "What do you want, Lizzie?"

"Mom wants to know if Sam is staying for dinner," Lizzie said, more or less addressing both of them.

"I can't," Sam said. "Tell her I said thanks, though."

"Okay," Lizzie said. She was about to leave when Sam stopped her.

_Oh God_, Derek thought.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam asked Lizzie.

"Sam," Derek said.

"Sure," Lizzie said. Or maybe it was "Shoot." Either way, she was still in his room and this was not a good thing.

"No," Derek said. "Don't think so."

"Trust me when I say she can keep a secret," Sam said. "You can, can't you?"

Lizzie looked both surprised and guilty at that. "Yeah," she said. She shut the door behind her.

"_Sam_," Derek said. He wanted to make this stop somehow, but he was flustered, and all he could think of to do was cover his eyes and that would only ensure that he'd miss whatever was coming next.

"So Lizzie," Sam said."I was just talking to Derek about something I noticed last night."

Lizzie's eyes widened. "Um," she said.

"In the parking lot. After Casey hugged him. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

Derek gave Lizzie a pleading look.

"Out of the ordinary?" Lizzie stalled.

"Liz, come on," Sam said.

"You're gonna make me say it?" Lizzie asked, eyeing Derek nervously.

"Nope," Derek said leading her toward the door. "Nobody's making you say anything. No matter how many leading questions they ask."

"Um," Lizzie said. It wasn't like her to be this nervous. She looked over at Sam, then back at Derek.

"Mom's gonna wonder what happened to me," Lizzie said.

Lizzie was the one everyone went to for an honest opinion. The fact that she didn't even want to answer the question told him what he needed to know. Lizzie saw the whole thing, too and he was officially toast.

"Go," Derek signed. Lizzie nodded and took off like the devil was chasing her. He flopped onto his bed and covered his eyes for a few seconds. When he looked up, he saw that Sam hadn't moved from his spot by the dresser.

"Okay, so that didn't work," Sam said. Except that if Sam took time to think about it, Derek knew that he'd realize that it worked pretty well.

"I'm gonna go," Sam signed. "But think about this, okay?" Sam reminded Derek that Casey was right next door and wasn't going to go away, so forgetting her was not an option.

That last thing started Derek thinking. Casey_ was_ in the next room, and as long as they lived under the same roof it _would_ be difficult for Derek to get over her.

That, however, gave him an idea.

Part Four: Casey.

On Friday, Casey was pulled out of English. They were in the middle of watching the movie version of _The Taming of the Shrew,_ over Casey's protest that it went against everything she and any other self-respecting woman believed in. Shawn Schlepper came in and asked if Casey could be excused. At any other time, Mrs. Parkinson might have thought this was fishy, but she was probably happy to get rid of her. Casey would have been insulted by this, but she wanted no part of this movie.

Shawn had one camera around his neck and one in his hands. He handed the one in his hands to Casey.

"How many photographers do you really need?" Casey asked.

"You wanna go back to class?" Shawn asked.

"Good point," Casey said.

"So how's your boy holding up?" Shawn asked, once they'd gotten to the gym, where people were finishing up decorations and setting up sound equipment.

"My what?" Casey asked. People kept jumping the gun. She hadn't been dating Noel long enough to call him her _anything_.

"Derek?"

"Derek's my '_boy_'?" Casey asked.

"Did I say 'boy'?" Shawn asked. "Oops. Slip of the tongue. Your _bro_ then."

"_Step_-bro," Casey said.

"Whatever," Shawn said, rolling his eyes. "How is he?"

"Queasy," Casey said. "And obnoxious. The usual."

"Uh-huh," Shawn said. He had an annoying way of saying "Uh-huh" like he didn't believe her. Sam did the same thing. Thankfully not for the same reasons, but—

She shook her head. There was no reason to think that everyone who uh-huh'ed her was out to torment her about her...thing.

_Crush, okay? Crush? Sam seems to think that it's way worse than that, so he keeps uh-huh-ing me, but it's just a stupid crush. Crushes are no big deal. I used to have a megacrush on Adam Brody, but I got over it, somewhat. I got rid of the posters anyway. Adam Brody never gave me this much trouble. _

Casey's theory was that it was much better to crush on people that she had little to no chance of ever meeting. This having to share a bathroom and a daily car ride thing was really getting to be a problem. Familiarity was supposed to breed honest contempt not this thing that they did, which might have looked like contempt to an outsider, but was really veiled affection (the brotherly kind) on his part, and a pathetic crush on hers.

Shawn was talking. It took Casey a second to catch up to what he was saying, but she did catch up.

"—total disaster," he was saying. "High flame. Chopped garlic. Who knew?"

"Everybody?" Casey asked.

"I guess that's why I usually end up on dish duty," Shawn said. "Can you cook?"

"A little," Casey said. "Simple stuff."

"Kraft dinner?" Shawn asked.

"Perish the thought," Casey said. "Mac and cheese is strictly Derek territory, and he has so little territory left, so we let him keep it."

"Uh-huh," Shawn said.

"I'm more of a tuna casserole girl," Casey said, deciding to ignore the uh-huh for the moment. On the stage, a bunch of kids were setting up microphones and a drum kit. She recognized Ralph, Sheldon, Johnny Stein, and Trevor and decided that they were safe enough to hang out with.

"Casey!" Ralph chirped, when he saw her.

"Ralph...ie," Casey said. She went for a handshake and he went for the hug. Ralph hugs still occasionally made her think of _Of Mice and Men, _but the more he did it, the less afraid of personal injury she became. Sheldon seemed to think it was a lot of fun to watch Casey be squished. Trevor and Johnny gave her one quick wave each, then went back to tuning up.

"Where's Derek?" Ralph asked.

"Last I saw, he was sleeping through Shakespeare," Casey said. She mimed falling asleep at a desk, her head falling forward, then snapping back up, blinking hard.

"How 'bout Sammy?"

"If _he's_ still awake, then he's nudging Derek so he doesn't snore," Casey said. She tried to make this sound off-hand, but she did not like how often Derek's name was coming up in conversation.

"So," Casey chirped in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "What's everybody doing this weekend?"

Everybody looked at her. Shawn gestured around himself at the over-decorated gym, reminding her why they were here.

"Oh," Casey said. "Hockey playoffs, right."

"Not a big hockey fan?" Trevor piped up.

"Nope," Casey said. "I abhor violence and I can't help but think that we all should have evolved past the need to hit stuff with sticks."

"But I thought you loved hockey," Ralph said, pretending to be confused. "You've been to all the playoff games."

"Like I had a choice," Casey said. "Mom and George dragged me, kicking and screaming."

"Uh-huh," Ralph said. He answered her glare with a grin. She whacked his arm.

"Hey!" he said. "I thought you didn't like violence!"

"I've been known to make an exception or two," Casey said.

"Looks like we're just in time," Sam said.

"She's being all mean to me," Ralph said. "And I think I like it."

"That's the first stage," Sam said. Casey looked past Sam for Derek and had a hard time finding him in the group with the rest of the team, who were busy giving each other noogies and other such Neanderthal behavior. Eventually she saw the right collection of cowlicks standing over by the coach, not really doing much. She saw Christine sitting on a bleacher nearby, waiting to be needed. Sam, of course, looked at her like he knew what was on her mind, but there were too many people around, so she couldn't kill him.

She was going to head over to where Derek was currently holding up the wall to make sure he had mints and stuff to help stave off the inevitable nausea, (four hours and counting till the game) but she was distracted by Shawn, who was telling Sheldon to "stop with the air guitar for the love of God!"

Casey giggled and turned around to see Shawn gripping the mic stand and striking a rock star pose and then handing it off to Sheldon so he could try. It seemed that without an instrument of some sort, the poor kid didn't know what to do with his hands.

"Casey?" Shawn asked. "A little help here?"

Casey took the mic stand from Sheldon, and showed him how to hold it and where to stand. He picked that up easily enough, so she moved on to a couple of pseudo dance moves so that he could look cool and self-assured. Sort of. She took out the camera and got a few good shots of him looking semi-cool and they would probably make it into the yearbook. At least it kept her occupied until more people started to file in for the pep rally.

She asked Shawn to switch cameras with her.

"Why?" he asked, cradling his camera protectively.

"Because this one doesn't zoom," Casey said. "At all."

"And this should concern me, why?" Shawn asked.

"Because I wanna get some candids and I can't do that with this camera," she said. "You're better with the wide shots anyway." She gave him the puppy face, which led to him rolling his eyes and handing her his camera.

"Pleasure doing business with you," she said, scurrying off before he changed his mind.

Her first shot was of Derek leaning against that wall, staring off into space. The next one was of Derek and Christine, her eyebrows up and her hand on her chest going upward, signaling a question. She was asking Derek how he was doing. She got another shot of Derek answering her, his nose wrinkled and the corners of his mouth turned downward, so that even if one didn't know how to sign, they'd understand what he was saying.

After that, she decided that it was time to move on. She got shots of the coach and some other kids on the team, most of whom she didn't know. She tried to cover as many people as she could: kids climbing onto the bleachers, the band setting up, the band playing, cheerleaders, but the camera kept freakin drifting to where Derek sat. All on its own.

Principal Lassiter called everyone to order. She got a shot of him yelling at someone that she couldn't see. Then she got a shot of Shawn ogling cheerleaders while ostensibly taking their pictures mid-routine.

Predictably enough, the band played typical pep rally stuff—"We Will Rock You" and "We Are the Champions." Earlier, Sheldon had told her that they'd wanted to do "Come Original," but Lassiter vetoed it. They'd wanted Casey to join them so they could try some Pat Benatar, specifically "Hit Me with Your Best Shot." Sheldon tried to guilt her with the idea of how awesome that could have been, but there'd just been no time.

After a version of "Where It's At" that should not have worked but did, Coach hopped up on the podium and introduced the hockey team members one by one, and they all ran across the gym to the stage. He saved Derek, the captain, for last. Then, Coach handed Derek the microphone. He tried to hand the mic back, but Coach wouldn't allow it. There was a brief pause while they negotiated and the crowd got a little rowdier, chanting _De-rek!_ As if he could hear them. There was some stomping, though, which he had to have felt.

Finally, Derek just signaled to Christine, who came running up and ended up translating for him because, Casey guessed, he didn't feel like talking over this crowd.

"So this is pretty cool," Christine translated. "On behalf of the rest of the team, I hope to see you all there tonight and tomorrow for the last two games. This was a long season, but I didn't want it to end. If it _has_ to end, I hope it ends on a high note. So how about it? Are you gonna be there?"

He waited for the cheering to subside.

"Are we gonna win?" Christine translated.

More cheering.

"I said, 'Are. We. Gonna. Win?'"

The screaming started to hurt Casey's ears, but she cheered with everyone else. She also had sense enough to wave her hands over her head, which was the ASL version of applause. A small scattered group of grade tens followed suit. She made sure she got some shots of that.

"Well, all right then," Christine finished. She handed the microphone to Derek to see if he had anything to add. He usually did, but not that day. He handed it back to Coach.

A flash went off in Casey's face.

"SHAWN!"

"Couldn't resist," he said. "You should have seen your face." Then he remembered that this was a digital camera and he could show her the face she'd been making. He held it out for her to see, but snatched it back before she could hit the erase button.

The band launched into "One Step Closer" and the cheerleaders did a routine to it. Shawn nudged Casey to remind her what she was supposed to be doing.

_Oh yeah_, she thought, raising the camera again. She was feeling a little dizzy and overstimulated.

After the pep rally was over, Lassiter dismissed everyone. It was barely 1 pm, so everyone was in a better than usual mood. But all Casey wanted was to upload the pictures so she could go home and take a nap before she got dragged to another game.

"Why don't you just take off," Shawn said. "I'll upload the pictures for you."

Casey almost said okay, but...

"No, it's okay," she said. "I'll do it."

"It's no big deal," Shawn said.

"I'd really rather do it myself," Casey said. "Wanna make sure my best shots make it in. I get the feeling I have a clunker or two in there, though and it's a little embarrassing, so..."

"And there's the twenty or so pictures of Derek you got in there," Shawn said.

"What?" She'd only taken ten, fifteen at the most.

He looked around to see if anyone was watching, and pulled her into the computer lab, shutting the door.

"Babes, you got it so bad," he said.

"_What?_"

"Chillz, I'm not gonna tell anyone," Shawn said. "Just so you know, though, Case. You're not that good at keeping it secret."

He let Casey chew on that for a minute.

"Now how bout you just let me pick the ones I might use and you can have the rest," he said.

Casey stood there with her mouth open for a minute or two then, her face burning, she took off for the exit.

The rest of the night, she avoided Derek like he was radioactive.


	42. Chapter 42

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty-Two.

Part One: George.

By the time Saturday came, stress over the last playoff game reached its peak. Mix that with the weird tension that had been floating around the house the whole week and you have a pre-ulcerous condition. Or at least that's what George thought. Who cared if his doctor said it was just indigestion?

Saturday morning, Derek pulled George aside, wanting to talk to him alone.

"You couldn't have picked a better time," George said, gesturing around the empty kitchen. "Seriously, have we _ever _been alone in this house? It's _weird_. I keep expecting a tumbleweed to go by."

Derek didn't smile.

"Tumbleweed?" George tried again. "Okay, what's up? You've been quiet all week."

"Been thinking," Derek signed.

George bit his knuckles in horror. Derek still didn't smile.

"Tell me," George signed. As a parent, George thought of all that could be wrong and commenced worrying. He really had been acting weird. He'd been a little withdrawn, and that wasn't something George thought he could chalk up to nerves about the hockey playoffs. Derek had managed to shake him off every time he'd tried to ask about it. Now he wanted to talk about it and George was scared of what he was going to hear.

"I've been thinking," Derek signed again.

George nodded.

After Derek had told him what was on his mind, George did what any self-respecting man in his position would do. He called Abby. He fully planned to talk Nora's ear off about this too, but at that moment, she was in class and, therefore, not picking up her phone. He figured Abby was likely to be home.

"What's going on?" Abby asked, sounding immediately worried as she picked up the phone. He blamed caller ID.

"Did I wake you up?" George asked.

"No," Abby said. "I was mid-schmear but that can wait. What happened? Somebody hurt?"

"Nothing like that," George said.

"Nobody's in jail, or pregnant?"

"No."

"So do you need me to take a few kids off your hands, then?" Abby asked. "Or come over and babysit while you and Nora go out?"

"Where _does_ that suspicious nature come from?"

"Experience," Abby said. "And I'm okay babysitting. Just tell me when."

"Derek's game is later this afternoon, actually," George said.

There was the sound of spitting on the other end. "Oh my God! That's today?" Abby said. "What time does it start?"

"It's at four-thirty," George said.

"Okay," Abby breathed. "I'm the worst mother ever!"

"Forgetting one game doesn't exactly make you Mommie Dearest, Ab," George said.

"It does when it's the _one game_ that I have any chance of making," Abby said. "Especially when its _the_ game. Thank _God_ you called!"

"Okay, so I guess you can make it then?"

"Oh yeah," Abby said. "Definitely." She muttered "worst mother ever," under her breath.

"Okaaay," George said. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"No?" Abby said. "Okay, then what _did_ you want to talk about?"

"_Your_ son."

"That sounds like I'm gonna need a refill," Abby said. "So which one of _your sons _are you referring to?"

"The one who just handed me a computer printout from The Blackman School for the Deaf website, and informed me that he wants to go there next fall," George said.

"Blackman? Why not Clark?" Abby asked. The R.D. Clark School for the Deaf was in London, not far away at all. Blackman, however, was in Toronto.

"That's what I said," George said. "He didn't elaborate on why one and not the other, but he _did_ tell me he quote unquote 'wanted a break' from being mainstreamed, what with all the lipreading and talking and having so few people sign...you know, pretty much everything we've been afraid of all this time."

"I don't know what to say," Abby said. "It doesn't sound like him."

"That's what I thought," George said. "But part of me still wanted to call bullshit and ask him what the _real _problem was."

"Okay," Abby said, thinking it over. "Let's do this systematically, George." He loved it when women got all systematic on him. "Have the mid-semester progress reports come out yet?"

"Oh yeah," George said. "Last week. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Has he been dating anyone?"

"A little, here and there," George said. "Nothing serious since Kendra."

"So if it's not grades and it's not girls, what else is there?" Abby asked. "What's this school's hockey team like?"

"Not as good as the one he's on now," George said.

"Then what could it be?"

"That's what I wanna know," George said. "Because I have no problem sending the kid to Blackman _or_ Clark if he really wants to go, but it makes no sense. Why does he wanna go all the way to _Toronto?_ Unless, he wants to spend more time with _you_." That didn't sound the way he meant it.

"Hmmm."

"Which is okay!" George covered, his voice cracking. "If _you're_ okay with it. But—"

"I get it George, relax." Abby said. "The going away part is weird."

"Exactly," George said. "And why _now_?"

"Dunno," Abby said. "So how bout we do this: I'm gonna go hop into the shower and I can be there by three-ish? How's that sound?"

"Good," George said.

"And maybe the three of us can figure out how to get the truth out of him," Abby said.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Abby chuckled a little. "See you later."

"Yup," George said. "Later."

Part Two: Nora.

Nora felt like the worst person ever. She was supposed to email Abby with the information about Derek's game, but she remembered about it that morning. Then she got Abby's number from George and only managed to reach a cranky old man who thought she was a telemarketer.

So she was relieved to see Abby's car in the driveway when she got home. George's car was gone already which meant he'd taken Derek to the rink already. Nora came through the side door full of apologies, which Abby waved off.

"It's no big deal," she said. "George called me."

"See? I tried that, but..."

"George transposed the numbers," Abby said. "He does it all the time."

"He does," Nora said. "But I figured he'd know _your_ number."

"Always check numbers with Derek or Edwin," Abby said.

"Meanwhile, we have a guest." Abby said. She waved at Noel who was sandwiched between Lizzie and Marti on the couch. "We've been getting to know each other while we wait for Casey."

"Casey's still not here?"

"She called," Abby said. "The bus is late. I offered to come pick her up, but she was already on her way, so she shouldn't be too long."

Nora looked at her watch and nodded. They had time. It was just that she hated that poor Noel was at the mercy of the family without Casey to provide a buffer. God forbid Lizzie tried to demonstrate some stuff she learned at _taekwondo_. Nora didn't want to call the kid's parents to let them know that her eleven year old flipped their fifteen or sixteen year old son. And Marti kept trying to adopt him.

"Nora," Abby said. "Do you have that book I wanted to borrow?"

"Hmmm?"

"_Interpreter of Maladies_," Abby said, pointedly, her eyes saying _play along_. "You said your book club loved it."

Abby made the lie sound pretty natural. _So this is where Derek gets it from_, Nora thought.

"Yeah," Nora said. "It's downstairs, I think." And with that, they hightailed it down to the basement so that Nora and Abby could gossip in relative peace.

"So what about this Noel kid?" Abby asked,once she closed the basement door behind her.

"He's adorable, isn't he?" Nora asked. "Casey really likes him."

"And Derek really doesn't," Abby said.

"You think?" Nora asked, frowning. "I didn't think Derek cared one way or the other." Or at least, Nora didn't think there was any _personal_ enmity, just a general dislike for anyone Casey dated.

"I only saw the two of them together for a couple minutes before Derek and George left, and I didn't see any open hostility," Abby said. "But it was like the temperature of the room dropped. And I've never seen Derek so...[here Abby made a face] _polite_."

Nora chuckled, "Polite?"

"Polite," Abby said. "It was _alien_."

"Wow," Nora said. She worried about telling Abby what she was thinking. She and George tried to avoid talking about it unless they had to, so she wasn't sure how much Abby knew.

"So I don't think it's anything to do with Noel himself," Abby said. "It's just that he's going out with Casey, right?"

"Um," Nora said.

Abby raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah," Nora admitted. "Think so."

"The day after the wedding when I saw Casey's picture, I knew there'd be trouble,"Abby said.

"She got him to dance," Nora said. "Did George tell you?"

"Marti did, I think. And he put on cologne to help you move," Abby said. "But it's mutual, right? I can read Derek pretty well, but Casey's still an unknown factor."

"It's mutual," Nora said. "But neither of them would ever admit it, I don't think. And she really does like Noel. I can tell. So George and I have been kind of at a loss."

"And now Derek's talking about going away..." Abby said.

"He's..._what now_?" Nora asked.

"George didn't tell you?" Abby asked. "He said he was going to call you."

Nora shrugged but then reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, which she'd forgotten to turn back on. Sure enough, there were three messages from George. Abby gave her the quick version of what George had told her that morning.

"Derek going to a residential school? Yeah that _does _sound fishy," Nora said.

"Thank you," Abby said. "George said so, too, but I guess we didn't make the connection. He wants to get away from her before he explodes. How clueless can we be?"

"This is really our fault," Nora said. "If we'd only cowboy'd up and talked to the both of them about this before Casey started dating Noel, we wouldn't be in this mess. I mean, look at Noel. Last year at this time, I would've said he was perfect for Casey."

"But not now, huh?" Abby said.

"He's still pretty darn good," Nora said. "But no, not now. It's too far gone with Derek and Casey, and now I don't know _what_ to do."

"Me neither. How _do_ you talk to someone about this?" Abby asked. "This is not the regular talk. I mean, what are we hoping they do? Get together? Get over each other? What?"

"I...don't know," Nora said. "On one hand, and please don't judge me for this, but I can see the two of them together."

To Nora's surprise, Abby nodded. "From the little bit I've seen of the two of them together..."

"But no matter what, it's just so messy!"

"Yeah," Abby said. "And Derek, in his own sweet, half-assed way thinks he can fix things by leaving."

"He should really know better than that," Nora said. "So, what do we do?"

Nora heard the side door clatter shut.

"Mom?" Casey said from upstairs.

"I guess we come up with a game plan later," Abby said.

"You're staying over, right?" Nora asked. She could always put Abby in Casey's room and have George bribe Casey and Lizzie to stay together for the night.

Part Three: Derek.

Derek was not particularly happy or proud of himself for pushing his Dad's one button. He knew full well that his parents worried about whether they'd done the right thing with him, putting him in public school, not getting him a cochlear implant back when he was thirteen and the hearing aid stopped helping, for example.

His Dad liked to tell a story about how Derek chucked a hearing aid out of a car window when he was little. Dad made it seem like they'd given up on hearing aids after that. The truth was that when Derek was older, he'd wanted one because it was supposed to help with speech therapy. It had helped quite a bit, but after a while he'd lost more hearing, and it ended up in a drawer, next to some broken sunglasses.

The cochlear issue had caused problems between Derek and both parents because he didn't want one and they didn't know why. Truth be told, _he_ didn't know why, either. He wasn't squeamish about surgery, he didn't think. Wasn't embarrassed to wear one, either; the hearing aid in his drawer was black and silver, not at all designed to be hidden. And he didn't have any philosophical problem with the thing. His Mom had asked him about that—whether he was worried about losing his Deaf Identity. She'd done a lot of research and talked to a lot of people, and this was what they told her. He'd laughed at that, not having even thought of it.

He tried to explain to them that he just didn't want it, and that just because he couldn't say why he shouldn't get one didn't mean that he _should _get one. People didn't understand that, though, so when people asked, he told people that his cochleas were too damaged to be implanted. One ear was, so it wasn't a total lie.

So that was the first fight he'd ever won against his parents, but it hammered one thing home: they worried about him. Constantly. They were always scared of doing the wrong thing and ruining his life.

And now he'd just gone ahead and made that worse. Dad hadn't put up any sort of fight, just gave him this heartbreaking look and asked if Derek was sure. Then he said okay.

Derek wanted to take it back, but he knew that he couldn't. That staying put would be worse. He needed to get out of the house and away from Casey.

He really wasn't used to this sort of thing. He'd thought that after seven, almost eight months, he and Casey would have learned to be related or whatever. Maybe _she_ had it down by now, he didn't know. Maybe that was why she was being all affectionate with him. He just knew that _he_ did not. He couldn't deal with hugging her without giving himself away. Or giving himself away _more_, if he was being honest because, as Sam pointed out, everybody in the world _knew_.

Everyone knowing was a big part of the problem. He liked to fool himself by thinking he was being altruistic and saving Casey, not to mention the rest of the family some embarrassment, but really he was trying his damnedest not to further embarrass _himself_. Not to be so pathetic. To regain some dignity.

He was pretty relieved to have left for the rink before Casey got home. Dealing with Noel was hard enough; the sight of the two of them together was getting harder and harder to take and all he could think about on the way to the rink was that 'why don't you like me?' look Noel kept giving him. So he was both jealous and guilty, a wonderful combination.

The game helped take his mind off of it for a while, though. Hockey usually did. Sam had a theory, one that Derek subscribed to: some people needed yoga, they needed to hit things with sticks. Relaxation was relaxation.

The other team really put up a fight, so there was no thinking of anything else but kicking their asses. Derek had gotten so involved that he hadn't realized it when the game ended. He was often half a beat behind everyone else when it came to stuff like that, but he couldn't blame this one on his ears. He didn't want the game to end.

When he finally did look up, he saw everyone piling up onto each other, and that was all he needed to know. He joined the pile. He might not get to be in another playoff game, after all. There _was_ a hockey team at Blackman, but their stats were for shit. So he tried to enjoy the feeling of victory while he could.

His first sign that he wasn't going to be enjoying himself, though, was his seeming inability to leave the locker room after his shower. It wasn't like he was a fan of the locker room's distinctive mix of mildew, Old Spice body wash, armpit, and crotch. In fact, the stink always seemed to linger in his nose for several minutes after he left the room. Even so, he checked and re-checked to see if he had everything and finally left only because he thought that people might be about to come looking for him.

He fought his way through a maze of girls, most of whom wanted to talk at him. He understood none of what they said, but nodded at most of them. And then Smarti found him, thank goodness. She tugged on his jacket. He crouched down so that he was eye-to-eye with her, even though he was a little bit sore.

"What are you doing up?" he signed.

"It's early," she signed. "Silly." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found out that it was really only 7:30. _Wow_, he thought.

"Past your bedtime," he signed.

"No."

"Yes."

"Your bedtime, maybe," she signed.

"I don't have one," he signed.

"Maybe you should," she signed. "You get cranky. You need more sleep."

He chuckled a little and picked her up, acting, as usual, like she was the heaviest thing he'd ever have to lift in his life. She was wearing a hat and it scratched against his cheek as he carried her to the car.

"Anybody lose this?" he asked when he spotted everybody. He gave Marti a little bounce and felt her giggle. Mom put out her arms so he handed Marti off to her. As he did it, he thought about explaining his going away to her. To say that she would not approve would be an understatement. She was going to go nuclear. He had the urge to pick her up and hold her again, while she still liked him.

With her free hand, Mom touched his cheek and turned his face to her.

"What's up?" she asked.

Derek shrugged. "Nothing."

"Are you going to the party?" she asked.

"Party?" He pretended ignorance. There was _always_ a party. This time, it was Mikey Donovan throwing one. He was in grade 12 and this really was his last game before university. Derek liked Mikey. But he was in no mood to be social.

"Yeah," Mom said. "Everybody's talking about it. So, you going?"

"Nah, I think I'll just go home," he said.

"Why?"

"Oh, I get it," Derek said. "You're trying to get rid of me. Should've known you didn't come all this way to see me or anything."

"I'm staying over," Mom said. "I can make a perfectly good fuss over you in the morning. Casey and Noel are going. You should go have fun."

_Fun,_ he thought. He glanced over at Casey and Noel. Both had their eyes on him, waiting to see if he'd be the third wheel. Noel was doing his best to look friendly and inoffensive because he sensed that Derek didn't much like him. It wasn't personal, but still. So Derek had to decide what he'd rather do—face the 'rents and their questions, or go to this party and deal with all the trouble that parties usually caused for him. Since begging off the party might lead to more questions, he chose to go with everyone to Mikey's house.

Next thing he knew, he was going down the line, hugging people (Mom and Smarti, Ed, Liz, Dad and Nora) and piling into Ryan Conlin's van with Sam, Lana, Casey, and Noel. Ryan's own lack of a girlfriend was the only thing keeping Derek from being a fifth wheel.

It was crowded. He was lucky to find his habitual spot in the kitchen, right next to some people doing some kind of drinking game with pickle brine and chipotle sauce. Derek guessed the liquor must've been locked up really securely at the Donovan house. He was invited to join in, but he begged off, preferring to watch people downing the green liquid, complete with little chunks of garlic. His eyes watered in sympathy, but he couldn't look away.

Until he was tapped on the shoulder.

He looked up to see Kendra grinning at him. There was no escape.

"Hey, Kendra," he said.

"Derry!" she said. "Long time, no see!"

He stopped himself from saying something snide. Nobody needed to know exactly how much his ego still smarted from the dumpage.

"Yeah," he said, finally. She closed the distance between them, got on tiptoe and kissed both of his cheeks. He gave her a half-hearted peck and refrained from commenting on her extreme Kendrosity. There was something about her that made him think of Miss Piggy. He knew better than to say something like this out loud because most people would misunderstand, and probably think that he was making a fat joke. The girl was in no way fat, but she _was_ paranoid about her weight; one good thing about not dating her anymore was that he'd never again have to assure her that her butt didn't look big. No, he thought of Miss Piggy because she was blonder than she had been when they were together and wearing a lot of purple eyeshadow. And the kissing on both cheeks thing didn't help.

"How are you?" Kendra signed.

"Okay," Derek signed, surprised. "You?"

"Good."

"You took the class after all?" he said.

"It was paid for," Kendra said, shrugging. "So...I've missed you."

_Uh-oh_, he thought.

"No need to look so worried," Kendra said, rolling her eyes. "I don't want to get back together."

"Did I say anything?" Derek asked.

"You don't need to," she said. "Your face speaks for itself."

He really needed to work on that.

"So," she said. "Amazing game. Congratulations."

"_You_ saw the game?" Derek asked. Kendra Mason did not do sports. Sports parties were okay, but the sports themselves were unnecessary as far as she was concerned.

_Why did I date her for so long? _He thought.

"_Yes_, I saw the game," Kendra said defensively. "It's not every day a team makes it to the championship, is it?"

He took that to mean she was after someone else on the team, but he didn't feel like asking just then.

"So are you going to Disneyworld?" she teased.

"Disneyworld?" he asked, to confirm what she'd said. When she nodded, he said,"Of course."

"(mumblemumble)— move to Toronto?" she asked.

"Wait..._what_?" he asked.

"Before or after you move to Toronto," she repeated, slowly. "You're going away to school, right?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"The ladies room at the ice rink," Kendra said. "I heard Nora and your Mom talking. Did you know that your Mom makes the same faces you do?"

"Mom and Nora?"

"Yeah."

"What'd they say?"

"That you were going to this school in Toronto," Kendra said. "Black...Black something."

"Blackman," Derek said.

"Yeah," Kendra said. "That's the one. Why so far away?"

"Not that far away," he said.

"Pretty far," Kendra said. She looked behind him then, and waved someone over. Derek turned around to see who it was and just like that he had the urge to climb into the nearest kitchen cabinet because Casey was walking over to them.

Kendra hugged her and did the double cheek kiss thing again which raised Casey's eyebrows, too. Then they took a minute or so to fuss over each other's outfits, giving Derek hope that he could slip away before they remembered him standing there.

No such luck.

"I was just about to tell Derek," Kendra began, half turned toward him. "How much I'm going to miss him."

"Why?" Casey asked. "Where you going?"

"Um, no," Kendra said. "Not me. Him." She pointed at Derek.

Casey looked puzzled.

"You don't know?" Kendra asked.

Casey looked at him expectantly. "Know what?"

"Nothing," he signed. Kendra nudged his arm.

"Tell her," she said.

"No," Derek said. "It'll make her too happy."

"The aliens finally coming for you?" Casey asked. Kendra said something that made Casey laugh. Derek asked for clarification.

"She said that you got your H-O-G-W-A-R-T-S letter," Casey signed.

"So what's going on, really?" Casey asked.

Derek rolled his eyes. The longer he put off saying anything, the more she'd push anyway. "I asked my Dad about switching schools next year."

"It better not be a private school because when _I_ wanted to go, they said the tuition was too high." Casey said.

"School for the Deaf," he said. "Government-funded. Free."

"Oh," Casey said. "Is it that one on Oxford Street?"

"No," Derek signed.

"Where then?"

"Toronto," Derek said.

"Toronto?" Casey asked. "You get to go to Toronto? Well that's. Just. Typical."

Derek shrugged and tried to look cocky. For some reason, he'd expected Casey to be upset about him leaving. He should have known he had nothing to worry about.

"You'll get more bathroom time," he signed.

"Oh yeah," Casey said, a smile spreading across her face. "So when are you leaving?"

"Love you too, sis." he signed. He patted her on the arm and turned to walk away. There really wasn't a lot of room in that kitchen, so it seemed like he could either stake out a piece of picnic table outside (in the cold) or go into the living room and join the party at large. There were already a couple of kids smoking around the picnic table. He was not a fan of the smell of smoke.

_Okay_, he thought, bracing himself for the confusion of bodies and bad lighting that was the living room. But then he saw Casey leaving, having snagged some diet soda and figured there was no need to move.

Part Four: Casey.

Noel was another of those guys who refused to dance with Casey. It seemed like every boyfriend she'd ever have would be rhythmless and awkward. It was her lot in life. She was thinking that she'd just have to accept it when a slow song,"Just for Now," came on. He held out his hands in sort of a courtly "may I have this dance, milady" gesture.

Two thoughts entered her head in rapid succession: _Wait, did I just think boyfriend? _And _Oh, just look at him_._ You can't leave him hanging. Grab his hand!_

She giggled and let him lead her off the step she'd been sitting on. He pulled her close and showed her that he wasn't a totally hopeless dancer. He knew where to put his hands and everything. For some reason, though, she kept inching away. She couldn't put her finger on what it was, but she was in a bad mood and didn't want to be touched, suddenly. Not that she could wriggle away from him without offending him, so she stayed where she was and covered herself by looking up at his face. Noel had ridiculously pretty eyes. Maybe if she just focused on them...

"What?" he asked, when she did that for about the fourth time.

She shrugged and smiled. The song changed to something faster, but Noel was in no hurry to move, leaning in to kiss her while she struggled not to pull away.


	43. Chapter 43

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty-Three.

Part One: Abby.

It took forever for the kids to go to bed, especially Marti who seemed to always be the last to tire. Edwin was usually the first to go, the couch for some reason, lulled him before he could deny how tired he was. It had magical powers, that old couch.

"C'mon, Smarti, you can tuck me in," Edwin said, raising his arms as if she were about to pick him up and carry him upstairs. She giggled and tugged on his arm. If he'd had some more energy to work with, he probably would have sprung out of his seat, making her look like the World's Strongest Grade One.

"What about Lizzie?" Marti asked.

"Thanks, Marti," Lizzie said. "But _I'm_ too old to be tucked in."

"Edwin's older than you," Marti said.

"But I'm more mature," Lizzie said. To which Edwin stuck out his tongue. Marti thought all of this was endlessly entertaining, of course, and went upstairs without complaint, in the hopes that Edwin would read her a story. Abby knew that he lived for those moments. He would take any and all opportunities to perform.

He got that from George's side. Abby wouldn't be surprised if there was a band in his future. Derek was already acting (she called that; George owes her ten bucks) and Marti would probably do a little of everything too. George's ham gene was a dominant one. Nora's girls had the gene, too. And although Lizzie seemed more of a carrier, she had a way with a straight line. Abby could watch them all night.

Still, she was happy to see the three of them head upstairs, so that she, George and Nora could get down to business.

"Okay," Nora said as soon as the kids were safely gone. "Plan of action?"

"Coffee," George said. He started setting up a pot. Then he dug some cake out of the fridge for them. After he had that all set up, he said. "The way I see it, we can confront him or we could call his bluff."

"Maybe," Abby said. "It couldn't hurt to make phone calls and get more information about the place, talk about setting up a tour before the end of the year."

"Are we thinking he's gonna hold out that long?" Nora asked.

"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst," Abby said. "I don't think he'll hold out, though, not if he really doesn't want to go."

"You think it's still a possibility that he wants to go?" George asked. He put his cake fork down, seeming to lose interest in it. Nora rubbed his arm reassuringly. He was still worried that he'd done wrong by Derek. Abby still wrestled with these feelings, but she had the presence of mind to remember that Derek rarely shied away from making his needs known. She wasn't that worried about him. Neither was Nora.

"I doubt it," Abby said. "I mean, I guess it's _possible_ that he wants to switch schools, and if so, that would be okay. But he could go to the one in town. It's highly suspicious that he suddenly wants to move to _Toronto_.

The subject of residential schools had come up back when Derek was preschool age, but they'd been unable to send him away. At the time, George had made some perfectly valid arguments about not learning to sign if they didn't have daily contact with Derek, but the truth was, they didn't want to be separated from him if they didn't have to be. Soon after, Abby had gotten pregnant again and the decision was made. Derek had to be close to his siblings and he couldn't do that if he wasn't around. That gave her an idea.

"How about guilt?" Abby asked. "After all, he just got two new stepsisters—"

"One of whom is the problem," Nora reminded her.

"Yeah, but what about the _other_ one?" Abby asked. "And we could remind him of how much he would miss Ed and Smarti and he _would_, no matter what he says. And then there are Sam and Ralph."

"Sam and Ralph," George said, nodding. "We could play the Sam and Ralph card."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Nora said. "Can we keep them as a last resort?"

Abby nodded. "Don't wanna put pressure on them unless we need to."

"No," Nora agreed. "Nobody will admit it, but I get the feeling that Sam at least has been caught between them before."

"Really?" Abby asked.

"Yeah," Nora said. "You remember that Casey dated Sam for a little while, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when they first broke up, Casey told me that they'd been having problems because Sam didn't trust her. That he was worried that she liked someone else," Nora said. "Then, after a day or so, she told me something else entirely. That they broke up because they didn't communicate well. She nagged him, or something. I let it go at the time and now I can't remember why."

"Because she wouldn't have told you anyway?" Abby guessed.

Nora pouted. "She _used_ to tell me stuff."

Abby looked to George in mock astonishment. "She _did_?"

George nodded. "That's what _I _said. Apparently some kids _tell_ their parents things. I dunno."

"Wow," Abby said. "I'm amazed. Must be a rare thing, like running across a baby dragon in a field of blue roses."

"Ha-ha," Nora said.

"Your problem is that you're too direct. We haven't used the direct approach on Derek in so long," George said. "You gotta trick him."

"This is true," Abby said. At the same time, she wondered what would happen if they _did_ try the direct approach with him. Just for a change.

Part Two: Lizzie.

Technically, Lizzie and Edwin were allowed to stay up as late as they wanted on Saturday nights. This often meant that Edwin crashed around ten-thirty and Lizzie got to read and listen to her music without anyone giving her a hard time or using the words "lights out."

On this particular night, though, there was a cot set up in her room for Casey, so Lizzie would have to pretend to be asleep the second she heard Casey and Derek come in, just so she wouldn't be forced out of her own bed. At first, she wondered why nobody suggested that Abby take Lizzie's room so that Lizzie and Casey could share a bigger bed. But then Lizzie wondered at the idea that Casey would be on her turf and could be made to behave accordingly. Would it work? Lizzie didn't know. This was the first time anything like this had ever come up. Lizzie didn't used to think in terms of territory, but her months of living in this house made her understand the importance of having one's own space. The system that she'd grown up with was a little more like what she'd read about Native Americans—space was shared. No such thing as private property. Except maybe for Casey's room. But things were different now. Derek had encouraged her to begin the process of growing a spine. Not directly of course; it came from having to rebel against him more often than she ever had to rebel against Casey and watching Edwin do the same.

Still, it was best not to chance it. She'd dozed off at some point but was awake when Casey and Derek got home at around 1 am. When she heard the front door open and shut downstairs and her Mom's quick greeting, she put her open book face down on her stomach and shut her eyes, working hard on evening out her breathing.

"I know you're still up, Liz," Casey said. She sat down on the cot, causing it to creak. It was almost enough to make Lizzie feel guilty. Almost.

Lizzie startled, just a little, but knew that Casey had to have seen it. She hazarded a joke, "No I'm not," she mumbled.

"I'm not gonna fight you for the bed," Casey said. There was something in her sister's voice that Lizzie didn't like.

She opened one eye. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Casey said. But "nothing" never meant nothing with Casey. "Nothing" usually meant, "Ask me again."

"C'mon," Lizzie said, doing her Mom impression. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Casey said. Her mouth started to crumble in an alarming way and Lizzie felt her own eyes water. She didn't _always_ cry when Casey did. For example, when Casey cried during movies, Lizzie sometimes couldn't help giggling. It got her some funny looks the first time she'd seen _Titanic_. But this wasn't some frivolous Casey drama queen moment. Something was wrong.

"Did you have a fight with Noel?" Lizzie asked in a voice that seemed to come direct from an overexcited sheep.

"No," Casey said. "Noel...is perfect. He slow danced with me, and then, on the way home, this song came on the radio and he sang in my ear..."

"Was he horrible?"

"Nope," Casey said. "He has a really great voice, actually. It's a big step for him because he's usually so shy about singing and this was an actual romantic gesture..."

"Then," Lizzie began, interrupting her while trying to think fast. The singing in her ear thing sounded amazing to Lizzie. Like the most romantic thing ever, and it would be easy to get lost in that. "I'm not seeing the problem."

"Me neither," Casey said. "I don't know why, but I just wanted to bat him away, like a fly. And Derek..."

_Oh, okay,_ Lizzie thought. This was familiar territory. "What'd Derek do?"

Casey didn't have an answer right away. She made a face like she was trying to decide if some food she'd sniffed had gone bad. "He's just always there, sucking the oxygen out of the room."

"Huh?"

"It's like I turn around and there he is, pointing out mustard on my face," Casey said.

"Would you rather walk around all night with mustard on your face?"

"That's not the point!" Casey said.

"Okay," Lizzie said. "What _is_ the point?"

"He's..." Casey said.

Lizzie waited expectantly.

"He's smnglnbing" Casey said, flopping down on the cot and burying her face in a pillow.

"What?"

"Smnglnbing," Casey said. "Wemohuifn neofid powlgh nfrniok!"

"Sometimes it helps if you pick your head up off the pillow, Case," Lizzie said. This whole conversation felt pretty backward. Wasn't this the type of thing the older sister said to the younger sister? Wasn't Casey supposed to be all logical while Lizzie flipped out? At least once in a while? Lizzie sat on her bed, watching her sister cry with no idea what to do.

After a few minutes, Casey lifted her head. "Could you turn the light out?"

"Um," Lizzie said. "No? I didn't understand word one of what you said before. Care to translate?"

"Not really," Casey said. "I just needed to vent."

"Casey."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Casey said.

"I'm getting Mom," Lizzie said. She had never played the Mom card before in her life. Casey looked up at her like she suddenly no longer understood English.

"You're not getting Mom!"

"Watch me," Lizzie said, getting up. Casey grabbed her around the waist to hold her back, but then lost her footing and fell back onto the cot, collapsing it immediately.

"Oh my God!" Casey said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "You?"

"Okay."

The door opened. Lizzie, who was facing that way, saw Derek looking in on them, first with concern, then with amusement.

"Shake the whole house, much?" he asked. Lizzie scrambled off of Casey and onto her own bed. Lizzie heard all kinds of parental footsteps coming up the stairs.

"You okay?" he signed to Lizzie. Lizzie nodded. Then he looked over to Casey and repeated the question. Casey shrugged, so he turned to Lizzie and signed "Is she okay?"

Lizzie nodded.

"C'mon," Derek said, holding a hand out to Casey.

Casey turned away from him.

"Okay, if you don't want me to fix the thing," Derek said. He turned to Lizzie and signed "What's going on?" The loyal part of Lizzie wanted to glare at him, but since he looked concerned again, and clearly didn't know what was wrong and neither did Lizzie herself, she shrugged.

"What's going on up here?" Mom, the next to get to the door, asked. She gently pushed past Derek and came in. Not that there was much room in there for her to stand.

"Nothing," Casey said. "This stupid cot." She finally got up from it, no easy feat, since it was lying there almost at a forty-five degree angle. She stood in the little strip of space between the two beds, meaning that she would be trapped unless they moved the cot.

"Anybody hurt?" George said.

"The cot might be toast," Mom said.

"Nah," George said. "It does this all the time. I can fix it."

"I told you about that cot, George," Abby said in the hall. "You guys okay?" Lizzie said that they were. She practically felt her nose grow.

George monkey'd with it for a minute before straightening up again. "A moment of silence in memory of this old thing?"

"Guess we should be glad it didn't happen in the middle of the night," Casey said. She was putting on this whole "look at clumsy me" routine so that nobody'd ask her questions. And her eyes weren't really that red anymore.

Lizzie was a little surprised that they hadn't woken Marti up. Edwin could sleep through nuclear war, of course, but—

Sure enough, when Lizzie peeked into the hallway, she saw a very cranky Marti, her bangs sticking up all over the place and Sir Monks-A-Lot cradled in one arm. Derek quickly assured her that all was okay. That Casey just fell again, no big deal. Marti didn't ask as many questions as she usually did. As soon as Marti was found out that everybody was still alive, she turned around and went back to bed.

So Abby took Lizzie's room after all. So much for home court advantage. But Lizzie decided that Casey would be much better off in her own bed, stealing her own covers off of her little sis.

Casey changed into her pajamas and then took off for the bathroom to do the regular tooth-brushing, makeup removing, hair braiding thing. After thirty or so minutes without Casey, stretching out on the bigger, less familiar bed stopped being fun for Lizzie. She got up to go knock on the bathroom door just in case Casey fell in or something, but then she heard a tiny noise. A whimper or something. At first it was hard to decided where it came from, but then she traced it to the open vent in the wall between Casey and Derek's room. Lizzie sat down on the bed again and focused on the noises coming from the adjacent room. There was the whimper and the occasional sound of hands smacking together, a hand brushing a shirt, or a tap on a hard surface, all of which pointed to Derek and Casey signing in there. Even arguing. The whimpering was clearly Casey, and sometimes there was some other little sound from Derek. He didn't know he was doing it.

What Lizzie wouldn't have done for a peephole.

It got exponentially worse when she heard an actual sob, followed by Derek making a sound like "Hnnh."

"Case," Derek said.

More sobbing. Lizzie really wanted to get off the bed and march herself next door so she could really chew Derek out (she assumed it had to be his fault). But the problem was, she couldn't move from her spot at the edge of Casey's bed. All she could do was sit there and be tortured by her own imagination. Until she fell asleep.

Part Three: Casey.

Casey told herself that there was no way in hell that she was going to make a big deal about what she'd heard earlier that night. She was most certainly not going to go into Derek's room and demand an explanation.

Next thing she knew, she was throwing his door open, flicking on his overhead light. He'd been on the bed, starting to fall asleep with a magazine, but his eyes flew open, then squinted at the sudden bright light assaulting him.

Before he could do more than give her a questioning, incredulous look, she signed, "I demand an explanation."

It was too late for him to be a wiseass, so he signed "What?"

"Explain yourself."

After thirty seconds with Derek's incredulous face, she decided that she needed to elaborate.

"What Kendra said," she signed. "About you. You're going to Toronto. Why?"

"I want to," Derek signed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?" she repeated, pulling her fingers down from one side of her forehead and then making the sign for the letter "Y."

"I don't have to tell you," he signed.

"Yes you do!" she signed.

"You care now, why?" he signed.

She raised her hands to answer him, but after a couple of false starts, she grabbed a notebook off his desk and wrote: _Of course I care! The things you do affect this whole family and you leaving us for Toronto when everybody knows that there's a good Deaf school in town sends a message to everyone._

"I like the one in Toronto better," he signed. "That's all."

"Why Toronto?" she signed. He hesitated because he clearly had no idea. Then he signed a whole bunch of stuff at a rate of speed that she didn't think possible. She signed for him to slow down.

"I. Do. Not. Answer. To you," he signed.

"Why are you so mean?"

"Because you can't mind your business!"

"What about Marti?" she signed. "How will she feel?"

That was a low blow. "Marti will be okay," he signed.

"And Edwin?"

"Ed wants my room," Derek signed.

"Lizzie?"

"She can fight Ed for the room," he signed. "She will win."

"Me?"

"You can't beat Lizzie."

"Stop!"

"Me stop?" he signed. "No. You stop."

"Why leave us?" she signed. She told herself that she was using the right pronoun, indicating both sides of her chest as opposed to just pointing to herself. That would have been bad, and she was terrified of Freudian slips, even in ASL. Or in her case, whatever broken, confused, sometimes too English-y ASL-like thing that she was doing.

"Why?" he signed. "I have to get away."

She stared at him.

"I want to go now, but I can't."

She continued to stare. She had a bad feeling, even though she had no reason in the world to expect him to actually say what she was afraid he'd say.

"Why get away? From what?" she signed. And that was when he did it. He pointed at her.

She covered her mouth with one hand but she was already making what sounded to her like a lot of noise, especially after the silence in the room.

Derek made a little groaning noise and tried to get her to stop crying.

"Kaysh," he said. She shook her head and decided that it was high time she beat it out of his room. She had the door open before he pushed it shut again.

"Why?" she squeaked.

"I'm sorry," he signed. "Can't tell you. I need to go."

"No," she signed. "Tell me."

"Sorry."

"Why do you hate me?" she signed.

He shook his head and signed, "No."

Then she said something so egregiously, painfully, epically stupid. It was funny; her teachers kept telling her that she used too many adverbs when she wrote, but they didn't realize how appropriate, even necessary they could be. At a time like this for instance. In fact, she could use some more adverbs to help beat herself up for being an idiot. The only problem was, she couldn't think of any. There they were in his room at—she glanced at his alarm clock on the nightstand—a quarter after two in the morning; Casey thanked God for small favors. She might have, after all, blurted this out in _public_.

In ASL there was more than one way to say what she said. She used the three part sign, pointing to herself, crossing her arms over her chest, then pointing at him. It just seemed more emphatic than the one handed one, the sign that people put on t-shirts and bumper stickers.

"I love you," she signed. "Why do you hate me?"

He said something that sounded like "tttssshhht,"squinched his eyes shut, turning away from her as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. For a second, he even bent over, like he might throw up. That would have been the perfect thing for him to do, of course. It would have summed up everything. It was almost like he was allergic to her.

_This would be a good time to get out of here_, she thought as she watched him sit on the edge of his bed. T_en minutes ago might have been better. I tried to tell myself not to come in here, but did I listen to me? Noooo._

But she didn't move. Part of her wanted to watch him spew like Regan MacNeil. She could call it closure.

But he didn't throw up. He turned back to her, with those humongous liquid eyes (_again with the blond eyelashes,_ she thought. _He shouldn't be allowed to have those, and they should not stick out the way they do_.)

"No," he signed. "I don't hate you."

She shrugged.

"No," he signed again.

Too tired to argue, she looked at the floor, a sock peeking out from under the bed catching her attention. While she stared at it, he came over and put one hand on the side of her face. She jerked away from him.

"I get the point," she whispered. Again, this was a good time to go to her own room before it got worse.

"No you don't," he signed. "You can't. I can't."

She wanted to say: "You should go. Far be it from me to make you do anything you don't want to do." with maybe some "Maybe we'll see you at Christmas. Or you can just have a nice life; I don't care." thrown in. There was no way she could sign all of that, first of all. Second, it was a little melodramatic even for her, especially since Derek wasn't going anywhere until September.

"I give up," she signed eventually. "Go."

"I have to," he signed. "I don't want to."

"Whatever."

He put his hand on the side of her face again.

"Stop," she said.

He pushed away the hair that was sticking to her cheeks, revealing her face in all its red, snotty glory. She took a swipe at her nose with her sleeve, something she never would have done normally. That night she couldn't care less, though.

"I'm sorry," he said out loud. "I am so sorry." He reached behind him and pulled a clean t-shirt off the folded pile of laundry that was stacked on his chair. He handed her the shirt so she could wipe her face. She took it, used it and tried to leave. He got past her and stood in front of her door.

"Please," he signed.

"Forget I said anything," Casey said.

"I can't," he signed.

She shook her head and reached past him for her doorknob. He stopped her by grabbing her wrist, and when she pulled it out of his grip, he put one hand under her chin and the other on her shoulder so that he could continue to let her down easy in the little crack of light from his open door.

"Look at me," he said.

_What does he want now_, she wondered.

She didn't see it coming at all. He leaned in and kissed her hard. She had just enough time for her heart to start really pounding, but then he pulled back like she was on fire.

"I'm sorry," he signed again.

"Why did you do that?" Casey asked.

"I'm sorry," he signed yet again. Casey wondered if he'd ever apologized so much in his life. She continued to stare at him,wide eyed and puzzled.

"Why don't you understand?" he signed.

"I understand," she signed. She wracked her brain for the right sign. "You pity me."

He growled a little; it startled her.

He signed "I love you." It was the same two-handed sign she'd used.

Then he used the one-handed t-shirt and bumper sticker one.

For good measure, he fingerspelled "I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U."

"I love you," he said out loud, finally. "Want me to write it down?"

She shook her head.

"How 'bout Spanish?" he said.

"No," she signed.

"T-E-A-M-O, " he spelled. It took her a second to make sense of it.

"You want to leave because you love me?" she signed.

"Now you get it," he signed. "Good. It's about time."

"I _don't_ get it," she signed.

She saw him make a fist and bring it to his chest to apologize yet again. She turned away. He tried to turn her face back to him, but she fought him off.

"I shouldn't have..." he began out loud. "It was a mistake to..."

"Kiss me?" she signed, knowing it wasn't wise to say something like that, in case anyone was still awake to overhear. "Yeah. Mistake."

"I wanted to," he said. "For a long time." He was about to touch her face again, but stopped himself.

"I have to leave," he signed. "Nothing else to do."

"Stay," she signed.

"And watch you with Mr. Perfect?" he signed.

Casey's hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh my God," she said. Noel. There was just no end to how much this night could suck. Now she'd just revealed herself to be some new-boyfriend-forgetting Jezebel. She deserved to suffer.

Derek moved her hand away from her mouth.

"Sorry," she signed. It was a popular sign, suddenly.

"I have to talk to him," she said.

"Don't tell him anything," Derek said. "I'll be gone soon enough."

"Stay," she signed again. "Maybe I can go."

"Where?" he signed, giving her a "don't be an idiot," look.

"New York," she signed. "With my Dad."

"No," he signed, shaking his head. "Too far."

It was an empty threat. She didn't really have much intention of going anywhere. New York was a good place to visit, but she didn't want to move again until university. From the look on his face, he knew that.

But as far as she was concerned, he wasn't going anywhere either. No matter what he said to the contrary. But there was no way, she realized, to resolve this until they'd gotten some sleep. So much had happened that day and it was hitting the both of them, but especially him. How he could be at all conscious, much less vertical after the game and the party, she didn't even know.

"Go to bed," she signed. Any other night, something like that would have sent him downstairs to make coffee and see how long he could stay up. That night, he nodded.

"You too," he signed. She reached behind her and opened her door, peeking in to see Lizzie sprawled across the bed, widthwise and snoring lightly, the bedside lamp was still on.

She turned back to see Derek heading into his room. When he saw her, he gave her a little wave before he shut the door.

She debated the possibility of moving Lizzie so that her legs could be on the bed and they could face the right way. In the end, she decided to just get some extra blankets and just climb in next to her.

It didn't take as long as she thought it would to fall asleep.


	44. Chapter 44

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty-Four.

Part One: Derek.

Derek didn't sleep. He spent the rest of the night staring alternately at his ceiling and at the little sliver of light that came from the lamp in the hallway that they kept on so that people didn't trip over stuff on the way to the bathroom. Around dawn, he saw shadows moving across the hall as someone or other walked by.

This really should have been a good morning. His team had just won a championship for God's sake. Not to mention the other thing. And he had no intention of _ever_ mentioning the other thing. Even though it was something that a might make a normal person really happy. In normal circumstances. But these were not normal circumstances and Derek was starting to realize that he wasn't the most normal of guys. A normal guy might crush on his hot stepsister for a minute or two when they first meet, but he would definitely give up after a while. Especially if he hasn't seen her naked.

And Casey wore the biggest bathrobes in the world, and the few times she'd been without, she wrapped herself in one of the huge bath towels Nora had brought when they'd first moved in. And the towels never slipped. He could chase her around the house while she had one on and it wouldn't budge. He knew this from personal experience.

But that was beside the point. He'd spent all this time being miserable because he was crazy about her and absolutely positive that he didn't have a shot. Even with all the times Sam tried to tell him otherwise. But then Casey just _had_ to go and say that she loved him, and if anything, he felt worse.

He continued to try to sleep so that he could stop thinking about this, getting up only because he really needed to take a leak. He was just about to climb back into bed when someone tapped him. He looked up to see his Mom standing there, grinning like it wasn't the most miserable day ever.

Her smile went down just a little as she asked him what was wrong. He shrugged and shook his head like "Whatever do you mean, Mother?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's Sunday," he signed. "And I don't smell bacon."

"Yeah," Mom said. She explained that with all that went on the day before, nobody went food shopping. So they could have cereal or cereal.

"Or the two of us could go out for breakfast?" Mom signed. "My treat?"

He did not turn down food. It just wasn't done. So even though he wanted to climb back into his bed and stay there until Casey left for university, he forced himself to look excited. He was sure he would be once he smelled food anyway.

"Go shower," Mom signed. "I'll be downstairs."

Casey's door was still shut and he had no way of knowing if she was in there.

Part Two: Edwin.

It was a Sunday morning and there was no earthly reason for someone to be poking Edwin's shoulder, and yet, there was poking. Pokage.

Edwin grunted.

Poke, poke.

Edwin turned over and wriggled under the covers a little more so that he could be invisible to whatever force of evil wanted him to get out of his nice warm bed.

Pokity-poke.

_Mr. Fuzzy_, he thought. _What do I pay you for? Do me a solid and bite whoever that is so I can go back to sleep! _

_This is your problem_, Mr. Fuzzy seemed to say as he stared uninterestedly at the top of the little blanket cocoon that Edwin was trying to make.

Whap! "Edwin!"

"What?!?" Edwin barked, it was a warning bark. He could manage a lot more volume than that if need be. He drew a deep breath to yell some more before he realized it was Lizzie standing there and not Casey with a chore schedule in one hand and a pair of rubber gloves with his name on them in the other. He'd had a dream about that recently.

"Sorry," Edwin said. Edwin Venturi was not exactly a morning person. He was nowhere near as cranky as Derek could be, but that didn't mean that he took kindly to people poking at his arm and nudging him at 11am on a Sunday.

"Yeah, whatever," Lizzie said. "We need to talk." She climbed up onto the foot of his bed and sat cross-legged so that he had no choice but to move or be sat on. But based on the way Lizzie practically bounced in place, this was something he wanted to hear about.

"What's going on?"

Lizzie told him about what she'd heard the night before. Not that she'd really heard much, she admitted. Just a bunch of crying, and then Derek trying to get Casey to stop crying, then Casey crying harder.

"Then, I fell asleep," Lizzie said, ashamed of herself. "'Cause it was like two in the morning."

"Happens," Edwin said. "People usually sleep at two in the morning. In fact, a lot of people sleep past eleven on Sunday mornings, so if you don't mind, Mr. Fuzzy and I will be getting back to it."

"Edwin."

Even Mr. Fuzzy didn't look like he approved.

"Okay, okay," he said. "So, what's your hypothesis?"

"I'm pretty sure they had a fight because now the both of them are acting weird," Lizzie said.

Edwin cocked his head to one side.

"Weird_er_," Lizzie clarified. "Derek just went out for breakfast with your Mom, but before that, he wouldn't look at anybody or talk to anybody."

"Oh I like that," Edwin said. "Go out for breakfast and leave Cinder-Edwin behind!"

"Like anyone could have moved you?" Lizzie said. "Your Mom's taking all of us to see Narnia later, but I think she said she needed to _talk_ to him."

"Really?"

"Yep," Lizzie said. "Alone."

"Wonder what he did," Edwin said. "Think she found out about this mess?"

"Not unless _he_ told her," Lizzie said. "Casey's still in bed."

"Wow," Edwin said. "_Casey's_ still in bed?" This was serious.

"You don't think they—" Edwin began, then searched for an appropriate thing to speculate about. What could they have done? Kissed? More than kissed?

"What?" Lizzie asked. "Made out?"

_Okay, that'll work_, Edwin thought. _We'll go with that._

"Got any other theories?"

"But what came first, the crying or the kissing?" Lizzie asked.

"_Alleged_ kissing," Edwin said.

"Ew," Lizzie said. "That sounds so negative."

"Possible, kinda-sorta maybe kissing," Edwin said.

"That's a little better," Lizzie said.

"So what do we do now?" Lizzie said.

"Us?" Edwin asked. "Do?"

Lizzie gave him a look. "We _need_ to get Casey out of bed."

"We do?" Edwin said. Lizzie raised a fist. "Okay, okay, we do." Lizzie dragged him off the bed and led him downstairs. When they got to the second floor, they heard the shower going and found Casey's room empty.

"Okay, good," Edwin said. "So I'll just go back to—"

"Not happening," Lizzie said. She pinched the scruff of his neck, like she was stopping an unruly kitten from climbing out of a box. "Nice try, though."

Part Three: Abby.

At Smelly Nelly's, their waitress was about Derek's age, blond, and pretty. And she eyed Derek with interest. This is something Abby's noticed happening since Derek hit puberty. Usually, Derek noticed it, too, and turned on the charm accordingly. She wanted to see if Derek would flirt this time, but then she realized that she'd left her wallet wedged next to the driver's seat of the car and had to run to get it, leaving the girl to show Derek to a booth.

After she grabbed her wallet and locked up the car again, she found Derek in a booth, doodling on a placemat.

"Well?" she asked, sitting down.

"What?" Derek signed.

"The waitress," Abby signed. "What's her name? I forgot to look."

"S-A-L-L-Y," Derek signed.

"She's cute," Abby signed. "Did you talk to her?"

Before Derek could answer, Sally came out with a large coffee urn, two cups and a creamer. Her demeanor had changed a little. No longer flirty or playful, she dropped off the coffee and smiled at both of them nervously.

"Should I give you guys a few more minutes to decide?" Sally asked.

Abby glanced at the menu quickly to see if they still had the Irish breakfast. They did. She wanted that. With scrambled eggs, and a short stack.

"Okay," Sally said. She turned to Derek, who turned to Abby and signed, "Same," nodding slightly as he did so.

Sally glanced back and forth between the two of them. "Should I make that _two_ Irish Breakfasts?" she guessed.

"Looks that way," Abby said, glancing at Derek, wondering what the deal was.

"Okay, awesome," Sally said, giving another nervous smile before she took off for the kitchen.

"What was that all about?" Abby signed.

Derek pretended not to know what she meant.

"She was flirting a minute ago and now she's not, why is that?" Abby asked.

Derek shrugged, "She walked me to the table, talking the whole time and I didn't realize it until she turned around. I told her I'm Deaf, and she got all embarrassed, " he signed.

That made sense. "Okay," she signed. "And what happened just now?"

"What?"

"I haven't ordered food for you since you were six," she said. "What gives?"

"I just don't feel like talking, okay?" Derek signed. "I ordered the coffee. That's enough for now."

"Since when?"

Derek shrugged. Abby was getting sick of that shrug.

"Is this why you want to change schools?"

Derek nodded slightly.

"Okay," Abby signed. "So you want to make a change. I respect that."

There was a pause while Derek put a lot of sugar into his coffee.

"There's no other reason for this change?" Abby signed. Derek dropped a whole sugar packet into his cup and had to fish it out with a spoon. If not for that, he would have looked completely cool and collected.

"For example?" he signed, after he'd had a chance to dry his hands.

"I don't know," Abby lied. "I just want to know why you want to go to _Toronto_ all of a sudden, when there's a school _here_."

"Why does everybody have to keep asking me that?" Derek signed. "I thought you might be happy to see me, but it doesn't matter. If you don't want me around, I can stay at the school," Derek signed.

"You know better than that," Abby signed. "Don't even try it. Of course I want you around. But not like this."

"Like what?"

"Under false pretenses," Abby signed. Now was the time to try the direct route. "You're running away from something. Or someone."

All at once the direct approach started to seem like a huge mistake. Abby watched her eldest turn to stone before her very eyes.

Sally came up with their food, but looked afraid to actually give it to them. Abby guessed that it was only the weight and the prospect of carrying it for the rest of her life that made her break the silence.

"Scuse me?" Sally said. Abby turned to look at her, which made Derek do the same and both moved back a little so that the poor girl was able to set all of the plates down.

"Thank you, sweetie," Abby said.

"Thanks," Derek said.

"Let me know if you need anything else," Sally said. Abby nodded. Sally scurried.

"So where were we?" Abby asked.

Derek was looking at her and clearly understood what she'd said, but said nothing to help her remember. He munched on a little piece of fried tomato. Abby took a couple of bites of everything, chewing slowly and trying to think of a new tack to take. _The pancakes are really good here, _she thought.

Abby put her fork down. "Hey," she signed. Derek looked up.

"I'm doing this all wrong," she signed. "I'm sorry. I wanted you to come to me when you need to and tell me things."

Derek stared at her.

"I love you," she signed. "Your Dad loves you. And Nora loves you. Nothing will change that."

_Dammit, _she thought. _Now I'm making it sound like he has something to confess. Like he's doing something wrong. Dammit, dammit! _She reached out a hand to move his hair off his forehead, and he pulled back.

_George will say he told me so, _Abby thought. _Even though he most certainly did not tell me so._ _But look what I did, here. I've made the kid shut down on me. _

"Know what?" she signed. "Tell me right now that you want to go to Blackman and I won't ask any more questions. Your Dad might still ask. I will shut up."

"Mom, I need to go," he signed.

"Need?" she asked.

"Need," he signed, nodding.

"Why?" she signed. He looked at her incredulously for asking questions when she said she wouldn't, but technically she said she wouldn't ask more questions if he said he _wanted_ to go, not if he _needed_ to go. Need and want were two different things.

"Fine," he signed. He let out a sigh. "I kissed Casey."

It was extremely difficult to suppress a cartoonish reaction to this, especially since Derek seemed to think that he'd dropped this huge, earth-shattering bomb that would immediately cause him to be banished from the family home. Abby pictured George and Nora, their fingers pointing resolutely toward the door, their noses in the air. Casey, off in one corner, trying on a nun's habit because surely she was headed for the convent after _this_ transgression. Abby's eyes wanted to bug, and it felt like her entire being wanted to giggle like a twelve year old. But somehow, she kept a straight face.

"This is the reason you '_need_' to leave?" she signed. Her mouth kept twitching.

"Yes," he signed, like he thought that she really should have pieced this together on her own.

"What did she do?" Abby signed.

Derek looked confused.

"She cried," he signed. He told Abby about how Casey came into his room in the first place wanting to know why he was leaving.

"And what did you say?"

"Said it was none of her business," Derek signed.

"And how did that work out?" Abby signed, grinning. He stared at her until she stopped smiling. His sense of humor was missing in action.

"She pushed me until I said I wanted to get away from her," he signed.

"De-_rek_!" Abby said. But he was beating himself up enough.

"She wanted to know why I hated her," Derek signed. After that he seemed to have trouble continuing the story.

"And then you kissed her?"

He shook his head. "She said she loves me," he signed.

Abby was stunned. "Do you love her?"

After Derek ascertained that there was no way to sidestep this question, he nodded, like he expected to be slapped for it.

"And that's when you kissed her?"

"Yes."

"Some people would think this was a good thing," Abby signed.

"Her boyfriend would not," he signed.

"Oh no," Abby said out loud. "I forgot all about him!"

"I can't let her tell him about this," he signed.

_Yeah, good luck with that,_ Abby thought.

"When did you kiss her?" she signed.

"Last night," he signed.

"That explains a lot," she said. Then she signed "But you asked to go away to school yesterday morning."

"It's too hard to watch her with him," he signed. "I can't. I wanted to leave before I could tell her, but then I kissed her. Stupid, stupid, stupid." he whacked his forehead repeatedly with the back of his hand, the first two fingers extended, like he was beating himself with a giant peace sign.

"It was bad timing," she signed.

"That's all you have to say?" Derek signed. "Bad timing?"

"Yes," Abby signed. "You expect me to be shocked?"

"A little," Derek signed. "Yeah."

"Think about it, Derek," Abby signed. "Why do you suppose I took you out alone today?"

"To grill me about why I wanted to go to Blackman," Derek signed.

"Yes," Abby signed. "And your father, Nora, and I had a theory."

"Theory."

"Yes, theory," Abby signed. "And you just proved it." If the poor kid could have drowned himself in the coffee urn, he would have. It's endlessly humiliating to admit to one's mother that one has feelings for a girl.

He stared down at the pile of food in front of him. Abby thought that he'd push the plate away, but then she remembered that it was _Derek_. Derek could usually eat. If he was really nervous or upset, he didn't always keep it down, but it had been a long time since she'd seen him lose his appetite altogether. He stabbed a piece of black pudding with his fork, sniffed it, then popped it into his mouth. Then and only then did he ask what it was.

Abby didn't think it was a good idea to tell him the truth. She made something up about pork and herbs and he seemed to buy it.

She let him eat for a while, noticing that he skirted the pudding. Then, she got his attention again.

"So what happens now?" she signed. He put his fork down and stared at her, wide-eyed.

"I don't know," he signed. "Are you sure this stuff is just regular sausage?"

She gave him a look to let him know that he wasn't changing the subject on her watch. Especially since telling him that he was eating blood sausage might send him teetering over the edge.

"I don't know, Mom," he signed. "I thought I had a plan."

"Train gone, sweetie," Abby signed. That was one of her favorite ASL sayings. She thought it might make him laugh, but it just made him put his fork down.

George was better at this type of thing.

Part Four: Casey.

Casey loved Lizzie and Edwin, she really did. She knew that she should appreciate their concern for her. Not only that, she should have anticipated it and known how to put a stop to it before they could properly investigate.

Lizzie started to peek in on her at around 9:30 or so. Casey faced the window, pretending to be asleep, but clearly heard Lizzie no matter how quiet she tried to be. It took her a while, but Casey forced herself up and into the shower. Then she forced herself downstairs and pretended to be interested in the marshmallow-y crap that this family called cereal. In this house, it wasn't breakfast unless the milk turned blue.

She was a little hungry, come to think of it, so she was able to ignore that part of her brain that knew that there was very little in the way of blue food that occurred in nature.

Of course, it wasn't long before Ed and Liz came sniffing around.

"Okay, good," Lizzie said. "You're eating."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, 'good, you're eating,'" Lizzie said, not even a little bit ruffled. "Because I thought you wouldn't eat."

"Why wouldn't I eat?" Casey asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Lizzie asked. "Did you think I'd forget how upset you were last night?"

"I'm not upset now," Casey said. Edwin rolled his eyes. Casey rolled hers back.

"If you weren't upset, you would have been up before eight, trying to get one of us to alphabetize the books on the bookshelves or something," Edwin said.

"Stop making me sound like Adrian Monk," Casey said.

"Who?" Edwin asked.

"The OCD detective guy on that show," Lizzie explained.

"Oh," Edwin said. "Maybe you're not as bad as _that_ guy."

"And anyway, did you ever stop to think that maybe this house could use a little more order?" Casey asked.

"Nope," Edwin said. "What were we talking about?"

"Casey's upset," Lizzie said.

"I am not!"

"Oh yeah," Edwin said.

"I'm telling you, I'm not!" Casey said.

"'_Course_ not," Edwin said. "So what'd Derek do?"

"Nothing," Casey said.

"_Nothing_?" Edwin asked. "Now I know you're lying."

"Maybe I just don't wanna talk about it," Casey said, stirring the last little bits of cereal around in the powder blue milk. She had been debating having a little more, but now it was starting to gross her out again.

Both Lizzie and Edwin were stumped by that.

"You always wanna talk about it," Lizzie said.

"Always," Edwin said.

"And you _always_ make me feel like I'm boring you with all my troubles, so how bout you just be grateful this time?" Casey asked.

"Because we're worried," Lizzie said. "I heard you crying half the night."

_Oh God, _Casey thought. _What did she hear? _The two of them had tried to sign the whole time, but Casey knew they'd said some stuff out loud. And now it was hard to remember exactly what was voiced and what wasn't.

"What, were you listening at the door or something?" Casey asked.

"So you admit that you were crying half the night?" Lizzie asked.

"No," Casey said. "I'm not admitting anything. And you still didn't answer my question. Were you eavesdropping or what?"

"The vent was open," Lizzie said. "I didn't open it."

"Why didn't you close it?" Casey asked.

"Be happy I didn't barge in," Lizzie said.

"So, if you know everything, why are you even asking me?" Casey asked.

"Because you're my sister and I care," Lizzie said. "And I fell asleep and missed stuff."

Edwin snickered and both girls glared at him.

"Sorry," he said. When they continued to glare, he said, "What? The way you said that was funny! Like you'd missed part of your soap opera or something!"

"Can't you be serious?" Lizzie asked.

"Sorry," Edwin said. "I'm nervous. This is what happens when I get nervous."

"I'm just gonna go back to bed," Casey said. She moved to put her bowl into the sink.

"Are you pregnant?" Lizzie asked. Casey sloshed some of the leftover milk onto her hand and the counter beneath her.

"Bwahahahaha!" Edwin blurted and covered his mouth with both hands.

"Are you crazy?" Casey asked, grabbing some paper towels and cleaning up the little mess. "Of course I'm not pregnant! Why would you even think that?"

"I'm trying to think of stuff you'd keep secret," Lizzie said.

"Can't exactly keep something like that secret," Casey said. Though Casey'd read all about people who tried. The story usually involved the truth coming out. Not to mention a baby. Casey guessed that she could be thankful that at least she didn't have to worry about getting pregnant. There hadn't been a virgin birth in a couple thousand years and she doubted that she was next in line for the honor. In light of that, Casey thought that perhaps she should be grateful that her biggest problem involved having to break up with a perfectly good, adorable boyfriend that she liked a lot. And then there was the whole problem of explaining _why_ she needed to break up with him.

"So then," Lizzie said. "Why were you crying in Derek's room last night?"

"We were just arguing about something," Casey said. "Like we always do. No big deal." Even if she wanted to tell them, she couldn't. She'd have to tell them about the possibility of Derek going away to school and that was not for her to tell them about.

"You're kidding right," Edwin said. "Do we look stupid to you? Wait. Don't answer that. Does _Lizzie_ look stupid to you?"

"I can't tell you what we were talking about," Casey said.

"Why?"

"Because I just can't tell you," Casey said. "I wasn't even supposed to hear about it."

Lizzie and Edwin were quiet for a minute.

"You—" Edwin began. "What the—was that supposed to get us to _stop_ asking questions?"

"Is something really wrong?" Lizzie asked. "Is he sick?"

"Why'd you have to go there?" Edwin asked Lizzie.

"He's not sick," Casey said, rolling her eyes. "It's nothing like that. Mom and George would've told you about that, and if they didn't, I would've. Or I would've made Derek tell you."

"Oh," Lizzie said.

"And before you ask, _he's_ not pregnant either," Casey said.

"So there's no excuse for the way he eats?" Edwin asked. "Remember that salami and cream cheese thing?"

"And the time I came in here and saw him eating apples with pickles," Lizzie said.

Casey stopped for a moment and wondered if either of those could be good combinations. Then she shuddered.

"So that means he didn't get anyone _else_ pregnant, right?" Edwin asked. Casey had hoped the talk of food had sidetracked him for good. No such luck.

"Far as I know," Casey said. She turned around to pour some more cereal into her bowl so that the milk didn't go to waste.

"So then what the heck is it?" Lizzie asked.

"Listen," Casey said. "I'm just not telling you. If you want to ask Derek himself, then you can." There was no way _he_ would tell them anything.

Casey could see Lizzie trying to regroup. To re-strategize. There was no escape and there wouldn't be any peace either. Casey would have gone out, but she didn't have any money, nor did she have anyone to hang out with.

Casey tried to be nonchalant as she washed her cereal bowl and put it on the rack to dry. She supposed it was still pretty obvious that she was watching Lizzie and Edwin, but especially Lizzie, out of the corner of her eye.

As her final word on the matter, Casey sat on the couch and picked up the remote, scrolling through the channels for something to watch. Once she decided that there was nothing on, she got up to look for a movie. She picked up _That Thing You Do!_ and found the box empty. After a few minutes of hunting, she found the disc she wanted stacked on top of _The Hunt for Red October_. For the hundredth time, she wondered if there was a system that the family was keeping, one she just hadn't figured out yet.

The movie kept her entertained for a while, and might have sucked Liz and Ed in, too. Unless they were just lying in wait for Casey to let her guard down before pouncing again. Either way, she was granted an hour and a half of peace, enough time for Mom and George to come home with groceries, and Marti to get tired of hanging out with Dimi.

This movie was, apparently, one of Marti's favorites and she sang along to every song that came up, whether she knew the words or not. The subtitles, which Casey had put on automatically, went by too fast for the average six year old, so Marti ignored them.

Shortly before the movie ended, Derek and Abby came through the back door. Derek came in first, Abby lagged behind to talk to the 'rents. Derek looked at the three of them in disgust as he went by. Casey had tried not to look up at him, when he passed the couch, but they locked eyes for a second.

"Oh, I love this movie," Abby said, when she came in. She squeezed in between Casey and Marti to watch the last few minutes.

"Out of my chair, chick-flick watcher," Derek said to Edwin, who was just getting comfortable.

Abby tried to remind Derek that girls liked guys who watch chick flicks, but Derek rolled his eyes. Once the movie officially ended, Abby started wrangling kids so that they wouldn't miss their movie. Casey begged off immediately, saying she had to work on an English paper. So what if it wasn't due for three weeks? _They _didn't know that.

She felt a tiny bit bad because she liked Abby and wanted to see the movie, but at the same time, she didn't want to spend a lot of time with Lizzie and Edwin when they were in such a Benson and Stabler sort of mood. She needed to be left alone.

But Derek reminded Abby that he was in Casey's English class.

_Dammit_, Casey thought. _Why didn't I say French class? Why?_

"More popcorn for us," Abby said. Then she leaned over Derek's recliner to give him a hug from behind. He turned to kiss her cheek. She kissed him back and moved his hair off his forehead, the way she usually did.

Abby went over to Casey, kissed the part in her hair and leaned over to whisper "Good luck," in her ear.

"Huh?" Casey said.

"Ya know," Abby said. "With the _paper_."

"Yeah," Casey said. "The paper. Thanks."

"Okay, come on guys," Abby said to the others. "The earlier we get there, the better the seats. I don't wanna get stuck next to the making-out people again."

"Ew," Marti said, not really meaning it.

"No joke," Lizzie said, also not really meaning it.

Edwin wrinkled his nose in distaste. He might or might not have meant it.

On the way out, both Lizzie and Edwin looked from Casey to Derek and back again.

Finally, Mom and George came in from the kitchen. George positioned himself in front of the TV. Derek tried to peek around his father, the way he always did, but George gave him the "I mean business," look. He didn't use that look often, so Derek stopped playing around.

"Kitchen," George said, signing it at the same time. "Now."

Derek sighed and got up.

"You too," George told Casey.

"Me?" Casey squeaked.

"Yep," he said."Come on."

Part Five: Nora.

George and Nora had agreed on how to handle this talk beforehand, but George couldn't help coming off like the bad cop as he called the two kids into the kitchen.

Derek of course, fell into the role of the hard case, the one who would never tell where the bodies were buried. Casey looked like she was going to confess to everything that had ever gone wrong in the world.

George realized this right away and tried to fix it.

"Cookie?" he asked. Both kids shook their heads, but as he put the plate on the table, Derek unconsciously grabbed one and started to nibble. Nora had to fight with herself not to smile at that.

"Okay," Nora said, putting a hand on Derek's arm so that he'd look up. "No need to look like that. No one's in trouble."

Neither kid looked convinced.

George liked to joke about the old Chinese proverb: "Beat your child once a day; if you don't know why, he does." Though he'd never lay a hand on the kids, Nora knew that he was thinking of it, wondering what it was that the kids did that they hadn't found out about yet and wanting to laugh at the possibilities. But he had to get down to business.

"What do you think we're going to talk about today?" George asked, not really getting down to business.

Both kids were too smart to answer that. Casey had picked up that skill pretty quickly, but she looked terrified anyway.

"Just testing," George said.

"Georgie," Nora said.

"Okay," George said. "Nora wasn't kidding. No one's in trouble. Unless you did something we don't know about."

"George!"

"No sense of humor, any of you," George said. "No. This is sort of a preliminary family meeting. We wanted to talk to both of you first while the younger kids were out of the house."

"About what?" Casey asked.

"Well," Nora said. "Derek has expressed some interest in a school..."

"In Toronto," Casey said.

"You know about that?" Nora asked. "How do you know?"

"Kendra," Casey said. "She said she overheard you and Abby." Derek nudged her because she'd turned her head a little to far away for him to follow, so she had to repeat herself.

"Crap," Nora said. "I asked her not to say anything."

"She thought I knew," Casey said. "She was surprised that I _didn't_ know." She gave everyone in the room her most reproachful look.

"This was yesterday, don't forget," George said. "We planned on talking about it today."

"I guess the first question is, how do you feel about this?" Nora asked Casey.

"Like it matters how_ I_ feel," Casey said. Derek nudged her again and she signed "No one cares how I feel." He nudged her once more, in annoyance this time.

"It's true," Casey said to Derek. In response, he narrowed his eyes, and opened his mouth, then he seemed to remember that they weren't alone (Nora was speculating, but she was pretty sure she was right) so he said nothing.

"Why do you say that?" Nora asked.

Casey backpedaled. "I just don't see how Derek switching schools has anything to do with me."

"Now, see," George began. "I would never have gotten that from what you said. _I'm_ sensing—and correct me if I'm completely off-base—but I'm getting a little bit of anger." This might have been Casey's first experience with George's lawyer voice. To say that she looked surprised to hear this tone coming from _George_ would be an understatement.

It was amazing to watch him. Nora had gotten to see him in court a time or two and she knew that he usually paced back and forth. It seemed like he wanted to pace, but couldn't because he wanted Derek to follow what was being said. Instead, he stared at Derek and Casey like he could see inside their heads.

"And anyway," George continued. "Wouldn't you say that the things that _you_ do affect other people?"

"George," Casey said.

"Answer the question, please," George said.

_Ooohhh_, Nora thought.

"Um," Casey said. "Yeah?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Derek snickered. He'd been through this before, Nora knew. She guessed it must be nice to see someone else get it for a change.

"Something funny, Derek?" George asked, turning to him.

"No," Derek said, trying his best to look serious.

"_Casey_," George repeated. "Do the things you do affect others?"

"Yes," Casey said, resentfully.

"So then it logically follows that the things that the rest of us do affect you, correct?" George asked.

"Yes," Casey said.

"In that case, Derek essentially moving to Toronto would mean something to you, wouldn't it?" George asked.

"Yes," Casey whispered.

"Sorry?" George asked.

"_Yes_, George," Casey said.

"Dad," Derek said.

"I just don't see what that proves," Casey continued. "If Derek wants to leave, it doesn't matter whether or not_ I_ want him to go. He's still gonna go." Her voice was beginning to wobble, and Derek couldn't hear that, but he certainly saw her blink hard to avoid crying.

"Casey," Derek said. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Then, he popped them back open so as not to miss anything.

"Why didn't you just go to the movies?" Casey asked.

"But we have that English paper," Derek said. Casey narrowed her eyes at him.

"Phony English paper aside," George broke in.

"It's not phony," Casey said.

"Okay," George conceded. "But I bet you don't have one due anytime soon. Because while Derek might wait till the last minute, you would have done it weeks ago. So I'm pretty sure that whatever you do have to do can wait."

Casey looked at him in shock.

"Do you think that I don't know you by now, Casey?" George asked. "That leads me to what we originally wanted to talk about."

Both kids looked at him expectantly.

"Want to take it from here, Nora?"

"You're doing great," Nora said.

"Okay," George said. "We had a talk, Abby, Nora, and I. About the two of you. Care to guess what we talked about?"

Casey and Derek looked at each other.

"Mom told me," Derek signed.

Casey nudged him. "Told you what?"

"And," George said, getting Derek's attention again. "She spoke to us just now."

This served to remove all color from Derek's face.

"You _didn't_ tell your Mom," Casey said. Derek nodded. Casey covered her face before it could redden all the way. The little bit of her ear that showed through her hair was almost purple.

Derek put his hand on Casey's back for a second, then pulled it away like he wasn't sure he was allowed to touch her. His eyes flicked up to Nora and he looked away guiltily.

Derek said something that it took Nora's brain a few seconds to translate into "I'm sorry." Nora took his chin and tilted it towards her.

"Isn't that a little insulting, Derek?" Nora asked.

He was confused.

"You've wanted to kiss her for a long time," She signed, painfully slowly, momentarily unsure if she was doing the past tense right. She was pretty sure that she needed to mention the time marker first. "Admit it."

"Fine," he signed. "Okay. I admit it."

"Did you get that, Case?" George asked.

"Huh?" Casey said, having been staring at the counter for the past couple of minutes.

"Casey missed what you said," George signed. "Repeat it?"

"She knows," Derek said.

"Knows what?" Casey said.

"That I'm an idiot who loves her, even though I'm her stepbrother and she has a boyfriend."

"Oh God," Casey said, covering her face again. Nora pictured herself melting into a puddle on the floor. George noticed her grinning like an idiot and elbowed her lightly.

"Can we focus?" he asked. His mouth kept twitching and it wouldn't take much to send him over the edge into laughter. But Nora decided to refrain from doing so.

"Okay," she said.

"Is this funny to you?" Derek asked her.

"No," Nora said. "Well, maybe a little."

Derek looked incredulous. She was laughing at his pain.

"Casey, honey?" Nora asked. "Look up here." Casey did, and sure enough, the cheeks were wet and the eyes were red. Derek still looked like he was afraid to touch her, but he pushed some of her hair out of the way.

"Don't," he said. He wiped at some of the tears with his thumb, then looked around for something that would work a little better. George got up and grabbed some napkins, then handed them off. Just when Nora really started to feel like they were intruding on the kids, Casey started to get it together again.

"How much trouble are we in?" Casey asked.

George chuckled, and Nora knew he was thinking of that proverb again. "Didn't we say that no one's in trouble?"

"So then, what's next?" Casey asked. "Do we get a shrink?"

"Um," George said. "Do you want one?"

"I told you," Derek signed. "I'll just go."

"Kid, if you think you're going anywhere, you really do need a shrink," George said.

"What?"

"You don't really want to go," George signed. "So stay."

"Guys," Nora said, taking over. "We should have talked about this a long time ago. We knew you guys were attracted to each other, but we were too cowardly to bring it up. We kept putting it off."

"How did you know?" Casey asked. "And please don't say the fighting."

"Okay," Nora said. "How about the dancing at our wedding? And a million other little things that came after that?"

"Christmas," George said.

"New Year's" Nora said.

"The breakup with Sam," George said.

"The breakup with Kendra," Nora said.

"How excited you got about her ASL exam," George said. "And then there's always..."

"Okay!" Derek said. "We're obvious. I get it. Sam's been telling me how obvious I am for months."

"Well Sam's a bright kid," George said, chuckling.

"With the patience of a saint," Nora said. "We almost enlisted him and Ralph to help us with the two of you. I'm glad it didn't come to that."

"But what happens now?" Casey asked again.

"That's up to you," George said. "This is an unusual thing, but you guys know that you're not the first people this has happened to, right?" Poor Derek was starting to lose the thread. He didn't look like he'd slept much, so George went back to repeat this in sign this to make sure Derek was following.

"You will have to deal with people who don't understand," George signed. "But you have to decide if it's worth it."

"You actually think we should—" Casey began, but she couldn't think of how to finish the sentence.

"Like I said," George said. "It's your decision." He signed "Your decision."

"I thought that you said that the things we do affect everyone," Casey said.

"I did," George said. "Try to keep that in mind."

Both Casey and Derek stared at him.

"Georgie," Nora said. "I think that Derek needs a nap."

Casey ignored this. "But what about everyone else in the family?" she signed.

"What about them?" George asked. "I'm pretty sure they know."He signed "They know," for emphasis.

"Why don't you guys get some rest?" Nora said.

"In your _own_ rooms," George said.

"Because I'm guessing that you're gonna have some things to deal with," Nora said, trying to ignore George.

"Noel is going to hate me," Casey said.

"He'll be hurt," Nora agreed. "And upset. But you can't put off talking to him forever."

"I know," Casey said.

"So is it fair to say that your decision's made?" Nora asked.

"Yeah," Casey said.

Derek was no longer even pretending to pay attention. He was propping his head up with one hand, chin to palm as he stared through them.

George waved at him. "Are we keeping you awake?" he signed. Derek shook his head, but his eyes focused, somewhat. "Go upstairs and take a nap in your own bed."

Derek did as he was told. Casey, after getting herself a glass of juice and splashing some water on her face, retired to the couch and flicked the TV on. She was asleep within the hour.

Nora shut the doors to the kitchen when Casey was safely out and turned to George.

"That was one conversation I never thought I'd have," George said.

"I think it went okay," Nora said. "Tell you one thing though."

"What's that?"

Nora came closer and put her arms around him. "I really love your lawyer voice."

"Can I remind you that you're under oath?"

Nora laughed. "Dork," she said. "I only wish we had some time to go downstairs and um..."

"Adjourn to chambers?"

Nora groaned. Then she kissed him.


	45. Chapter 45

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty-Five

Part One: Lizzie.

They spent the whole ride home from the movies trying to convince Marti that as awesome as Aslan was, a lion would not make a good house pet.

Lizzie,who'd lost the coin toss, sat in the back with Marti. She tried to explain why she couldn't have a lion using the environmentalist approach, talking about how lions are wild animals who should never be cooped up in such a small space. How they needed to hunt and run around and stuff, and it wouldn't be a good idea to let them do that in their neighborhood.

"Plus," Edwin said, twisting around as far as the seatbelt would allow. "Think about cleaning up after a lion. You know Ralph's dog, Hagrid?"

Hagrid was a gigantic and friendly Great Dane. Not unlike Ralph himself.

"Uh-huh," Marti said. "I love Hagrid." Edwin told Lizzie that Marti used to ride on the dog's back when she was smaller. Casey was afraid of him.

"You've seen the mess he makes?" Edwin asked.

"Yeah," Marti said, wrinkling her nose.

"Now picture the mess three Hagrids would make and you have a lion's mess," Edwin said. "_You_ gonna clean that up?"

Lizzie could see Abby's shoulders shaking as she kept her eyes on the road.

"No, that'd be _your_ job," Marti said. Now she was just messing with Edwin.

"Nuh-uh," he said.

"Uh-huh," Marti said.

"Maybe we can get Casey to do it?" Edwin said.

"Deal," Marti said. They high-fived on it.

"So no lion?" Marti asked.

"Nope," Edwin said.

"Uh-uh," Abby said.

"No way," Lizzie said.

"Well," Marti said. "What about a kitty?"

Edwin laughed. Abby groaned, and Lizzie wondered why they _didn't_ have a cat.

Abby dropped them off, and they found the 'rents in the living room watching an old black and white movie. Mom's head was on George's shoulder. It looked like they wanted to have a little alone time. They always put on old movies when they wanted to make out.

"How was the movie?" George asked.

"Okay," Edwin said.

"Pretty cool," Lizzie said.

"Great!" Marti said. She started to tell them about it, oblivious to the presence of the black and white movie, but Edwin interrupted her.

"Smarti," he said. "Didn't you need help with your math before dinner?"

"Oh yeah," Marti said, allowing herself to be led away from the couch and up the stairs. Edwin sat on Marti's bed, next to her desk while Marti pulled out the worksheet she had to finish for homework. Before Lizzie sat down, with them, she decided that a little reconnaissance was in order. She peeked in Derek's room first, finding him sprawled on his bed, fast asleep.

Casey was sitting at her desk, tippy-tapping away at her computer. Lizzie knocked on her doorjamb.

"How's it going?" Lizzie asked, when Casey turned around.

"Okay," Casey said.

"Are you sure?"

Casey rolled her eyes. "Yes I'm sure." She looked better, but still didn't look completely okay.

"Good," Lizzie said. "So whatcha doin?"

"Nothing really," Casey said. "Trying to keep busy." Lizzie looked over her shoulder to see what Casey was looking at. She was on a website that had pictures of big, flouncy, old-fashioned dresses. Only Casey. Lizzie shook her head.

"So, you still look kind of upset," Lizzie said.

"Not too bad," Casey said.

"Bad enough," Lizzie said. "So what's going on?"

Casey sighed, and tried to pretend like she was still interested in the flouncy dresses, but then she swiveled around in her chair.

"Okay," Casey said. "I'm gonna have to tell you anyway, because it affects you guys. I'm supposed to, like gather everyone together or something, but..."

"Edwin and Marti are just down the hall," Lizzie said. "I can get 'em." Then, she called out for them before Casey could do anything else.

They, of course, were at Casey's door in a second.

"Sup?" Edwin said, leaning against the door, arms crossed.

"Hi," Marti sing-songed.

Casey groaned and rubbed her forehead.

"Should we get Mom and George?" Lizzie asked.

"No!" Casey said abruptly, like she expected Lizzie to scream across the hills to summon them. "They already know."

"How bout Smerek?" Marti asked.

"He knows, too," Casey said. "Let him sleep. He didn't sleep that much last night."

"So?" Edwin asked.

"I don't know where to start with this," Casey said. "Last night, Derek and I had...a talk."

"A fight," Lizzie corrected.

"Not really," Casey said. Nobody believed her. "We weren't mad or anything. We were upset, but it wasn't really a fight."

"Oookay," Lizzie said.

"But we talked, a lot," Casey said. "We found out some important stuff."

"Like what?" Marti asked.

_Ohmygosh_, Lizzie thought. She looked at Edwin.

"Um," Casey said. "We learned some things about each other. Told each other things." She was looking everywhere but at them, and this weirded Marti out, she kept trying to catch Casey's eye again. Lizzie and Casey learned pretty fast that in that house you had to look at people when you talked to them. Always. Just like they knew that you didn't lock bedroom doors unless you were changing or, in Mom and George's case, Doing It.

"And," Casey said. She tried another approach. "So you guys, this is gonna affect you because you're gonna have to deal with people who don't think that this is okay, and—"

"Will you just spit it out?" Edwin blurted.

"We kissed!" Casey said. "Derek kissed me! I kissed him back! We kissed, okay?"

"Like, _kissed_?" Marti asked. "Like on TV?"

"Kinda," Casey squeaked.

"So you love him?" Marti asked. "Like Daddy and Nora?"

"Yeah," Casey said.

"Oh, okay," Marti said.

Casey seemed confused by this and the look on her face cracked Edwin up.

"Jeez, Case," he said. "I thought this was gonna be some kinda big deal."

"What?" Casey asked. "Shut _up_!" Edwin laughed.

"This _is_ a big deal," Casey said. "You guys need to know what's gonna happen when people find out—"

"Fire? Brimstone?" Edwin asked.

"Raining frogs?" Lizzie asked. "_Meh_."

"Guys! Quit joking around," Casey said.

"Casey, what'd you _think_ we were gonna say?" Edwin asked. "Do we even look surprised?"

"Has Sam been talking to you?" Casey asked.

"No," Edwin said. "We _live_ with you. We see things." Lizzie nodded. Marti was already bored with this conversation and had started watching the cat on Casey's screensaver.

"You're all worried about what people are gonna think," Lizzie said. "But it's like everybody knows."

"Ohhhh," Casey said. "_O_kay, so tomorrow when I go to school and tell Noel that I'm breaking up with him because I kissed my stepbrother, he's gonna be just _fine_ with it. That what you're saying?"

"Um, no," Lizzie said. She was wondering when the subject of Noel was coming up. "But you have to do it."

"And you probably don't wanna say like that because it just sounds _bad_," Edwin said. Edwin could get away with stuff like that and have people laugh when they'd usually be pounding him. And Casey usually said that she didn't approve of violence, but Lizzie knew from experience that her older sister was not completely above it. She never hurt anyone, but had pinned Lizzie often enough when they were growing up, usually tickling her into submission. So Edwin should have been afraid. But he wasn't.

Part Two: Casey.

Lizzie, Marti and Edwin continued to hang out in Casey's room after her big though anticlimactic announcement because they knew her too well. If they didn't hang out and distract her, she'd start rearranging furniture. Again.

Marti told them all about the drama that is grade one. Her stories wandered a bit, so every once in a while, Lizzie or Edwin would say something to bring her back on track. Casey tried to remember if she was anywhere near as bright when she was six. She wasn't sure she was that bright now. She was used to having this feeling about Lizzie, the feeling that her days were numbered and that Lizzie would take over the world. Now she had Edwin and Marti to bow down to as well. An oligarchy instead of a monarchy. Who knew?

Edwin was on Casey's computer, looking for pictures of Beyonce Knowles, and Casey was busy threatening his life for using all of her printer ink when they all heard the floorboard in the hallway creak.

"Looks like Rip van Smerek is up," Edwin quipped. Marti giggled. They all waited to hear what he was up to. The creak was followed soon after by the sound of the toilet flushing and water flowing from the faucet. Then Derek poked his head into the room and was greeted by everyone staring at him.

"What?" he signed.

"Nothing," Edwin signed.

Derek glanced at Edwin, Lizzie and Marti in turn. Then he turned to Casey. "You told them," he said.

"Yeah," she said. The other three nodded. Nobody looked surprised. Derek, a little faster on the uptake than Casey was, nodded.

"Then they must die," he said. He lunged at Marti who squealed and tried to scoot by him, giggling the whole time. He caught her, picked her up and growled,"This one looks like she'd be good with barbecue sauce." Marti's laugh reached a pitch that only dogs could hear.

He put her down after a second and did his best to look serious. "Smarti," he said. "Why don't you and Lizzie help Edwin with his homework?"

Edwin tapped him. "I don't know," he signed. "Can we really leave you two alone in here?" Derek made a grab for Edwin this time. Edwin ran like the devil was chasing him, but he laughed the whole way to his room.

"I'll just have to get him later," Derek said. He looked at Lizzie and Marti. "Why are you two still here?"

"We're going," Lizzie said. "C'mon Marti, we'll check over your spelling homework. Then we'll check Edwin's." Marti giggled again.

Once they were alone in the room, Casey stared at Derek, with no idea what to do with herself. Derek, being Derek, plopped down on her bed like it was his and made himself comfortable. Casey stood in front of the bed, arms crossed, and stared at him. He stared back for a minute or so, neither of them blinking or saying anything. The tension got thicker until Derek made a face, killing any chance of Casey keeping a straight face. He sat up, and patted the spot next to him.

"Sit down," he signed. But she didn't want to sit down. She wanted to pace. To fidget. She wanted to run around the block. But most of all she wanted to think of something to say to him.

He beat her to it.

"So?" he asked.

"So?" she asked.

"What's next?" he signed.

"I talk to Noel," she signed. "I'd do it now if I could." Noel had a family thing at his house and she couldn't very well go over there and ruin his night in front of his grandma or whoever.

"You sure you want to?" he asked. As much as she'd give anything to avoid it, there was no question that she was going through with it.

"Why?" she asked. "Are you having cold feet?"

He shook his head and reached for her arm to pull her a little closer. She finally gave up and sat down next to him. It felt strange for the two of them to sit so close. On one hand, this was Derek, the guy who sewed her sleeves shut and messed with the playlists on her computer. On the other hand...this was the same guy who lit up when she signed curses at him. The guy who somehow had the power to make her laugh at insults that _he_ threw at her. And the guy whose hand was in her hair at the moment.

"You're not afraid to be seen with me?" Casey asked, testing the waters. "Your status might drop a little."

"I'm seen with you now," he said. "I drive you to school every day. And then there's that play..."

She narrowed her eyes. He knew what she meant.

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'll risk it," he signed.

"You're sure?" she signed.

"What are you worried about?" he asked

"What am I _not_ worried about?" Casey said. Ever since she moved to this school, she'd been given a lesson in how closed minded teenagers could be sometimes. She was already singled out as a weirdo because she was a little clumsy, and because she had the nerve to actually want to get good grades. She knew that dating her would drag him down if not because of her love for 3x5 cards, then because of the overall weirdness of the situation.

"Oh come on," Derek said, when she told him what she was thinking. "Think about it, Case. I'm pretty high up on the weird scale. There's, like, one other Deaf kid in the entire school, and she doesn't stick out as bad as I do. But I've known most of our class since grade school. And I'm pretty good on the ice. So I'm not that much of a freak."

"You think you're a freak?" Casey asked. She'd always thought he was the single most arrogant piece of work she'd ever met. The thought of him using that to hide low self esteem really broke her heart.

Derek rolled his eyes like she was being an idiot. "No, Casey, I do not think I'm a freak. I mean, you've met me, right? How can you doubt the awesomeness?"

"Derek," she said.

"Listen," he said. "I don't worry about stuff like that. I have a couple of really good friends. What else do you need?"

He had a point.

"Sam's gonna be a pain in the ass, though" Derek said.

"That's true," Casey said. She smiled at the thought. If anyone was going to have fun with this news, it was Sam. He was going to tease both of them until they all died of old age. If one of them didn't kill him first.

Then she wondered about Emily. Emily was a really good friend to her, and she'd known about Casey's feelings for Derek. Casey'd all but confessed to them on more than one occasion, but Emily had also nursed a crush on Derek for much much longer than Casey had. Casey felt guilty for thinking this, but even though Emily had a perfectly good boyfriend of her own, she might not take kindly to Casey actually dating her old crush.

Casey couldn't help thoughts like this. She was cursed with exactly the wrong type of overactive imagination. Someone like Marti could create entire worlds with talking animals who know how to make the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but all Casey could think of was accidentally ruining the lives of those she cared about.

"But what if people give you enough crap that you decide that I'm just too much trouble?" she asked.

"Too much trouble? I already know you're too much trouble," he said. "I don't let it stop me." She reached for a pillow to hit him with but he blocked her access, then grabbed the pillow she'd been reaching for, holding it out of her reach. She tried to grab the other one but he was partially leaning on it. There was wrestling and both of them saw the opportunity for a good round of making out, but she couldn't do it until she talked to Noel, so she pulled away.

"Not yet," she said. He nodded.

"I intend to collect on this later," he said. "With interest." She poked him in the ribs.

"You're a lot of trouble yourself you know," she said.

"I know," he signed, nodding. "And proud of it."

She poked him again, which made him lose his grip on the pillow so that she could grab it and hit him. He made a little squawk of protest and next thing she knew, they were wrestling again. After he pinned her for the second time, she was within a millimeter of letting him actually kiss her this time, but then Edwin knocked on the door. Derek moved in for the kiss and his nose bumped her cheek as she turned.

Casey had never understood why Derek made such constant death threats against his little brother. Not until that moment, anyway. She startled and turned, alerting Derek to the fact that they weren't alone anymore. Then she growled and that cracked both Derek and Edwin up.

"What do you want?" Casey barked.

Edwin snorted. "A six figure income, a driver's license and a Ferrari."

"Too bad you won't live to see any of that," Casey said, wiggling out from under Derek who was laughing too hard to put up any kind of fight.

"Grrrrr," Edwin mocked, still giggling. He clawed the air in front of him.

"Shut up!" Casey said, starting to laugh a little herself.

"Downstairs," Edwin signed. "Chinese food."

"Chinese?" Casey asked. "I thought they were cooking."

Edwin shrugged. "I don't look a gift eggroll in the mouth."

Watching Derek struggle with chopsticks was good for a little entertainment. It always was. Anyone who knew him knew all the ways he was good with his hands. He could quick sketch a comic book hero faster than some people (Casey) could manage a decent straight line; he could put together a model car before Edwin could finish reading the instructions. And yet he couldn't use chopsticks. Casey wondered if he was kidding around.

Either way, she had fun watching him pick his dim sum up and drop it, finally getting up and getting a fork from the drawer so that he wouldn't starve to death. It occurred to Casey that she no longer had to pretend that stuff like this wasn't cute, but she wasn't ready to give up her sneer just yet. The only problem was that no one believed it anymore. If they ever had.

The next morning, however, she woke up miserable again, knowing what she had to do.

Part Three: Derek.

He and Casey had done their best to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary. He drove with her to school and they went off in different directions. The deal was for them to keep things cool until Casey broke up with Noel. Derek wasn't an idiot though. He knew it would take a while. No matter how the poor guy reacted, Casey was not going to be in the mood to make out after she swung the ax. And there was always the potential for the guy to react badly, especially if Casey pulled a Casey and told him too much. Derek knew to anticipate this kind of thing.

It was fine. He could be patient. What was a few more...what...days? Weeks? He hoped it wasn't weeks, but he'd wait if he absolutely had to, he was sure.

He just hoped he didn't have to. It wasn't that he didn't feel bad for Noel; he did, but he'd waited long enough.

In the hall, Sam immediately smacked Derek on the back of the head. He'd been talking to Kendra apparently and had heard about the school thing.

"I'm not going anywhere," Derek signed, once Sam was finished with his tirade.

"Damn right you're not," Sam signed. He paused and stared at Derek. "What are you smiling at?"

Derek stopped smiling. "I'm not."

Ralph came by. "Did you hit him yet?" he signed to Sam. Sam nodded. Then Ralph hit him, too.

"And he's hiding something else," Sam signed.

"What _now_?" Ralph asked.

"Nothing," Derek signed. "I am an open book."

"The ink is smeared," Sam signed. "Pages are missing."

"To stop you from skipping to the end," Derek signed, grinning. He closed his locker and headed to homeroom, forgetting for a second that both of them were in homeroom with him.

"I'm lost," Ralph signed as soon as he sat down. "Are you going away or what?"

"I'm not going away," Derek signed.

"Why would you wanna say that then?" Ralph signed.

"I didn't want to," Derek signed. "Long story. Tell you later. But I'm staying." The look on Ralph's face said that he wasn't off the hook. Sam and Ralph were feeling a little betrayed, probably because they heard it from Kendra of all people, which was like reading it in _The_ _New York Times_. More than likely the pizza was on him the next time they hung out. But when he told them what had gone on that weekend, they'd understand, at least a little.

Derek had English with Casey and Sam as usual. He couldn't resist shoulder-bumping her, knowing that that would probably be the most contact they'd have all day. She elbowed him in return.

_She loves me_, he thought, rubbing his still throbbing side.

Still, the class went by way too slowly, while Mrs. P. continued to drone on about _Ethan Frome_, which is a highly unfortunate book to be talking about when you want a girl to leave her boyfriend for you. Casey fidgeted pretty much constantly. And Derek had an almost perfect view of her leg bouncing up and down, when Christine wasn't poking him to get his attention.

At lunch, he couldn't find her. He went looking for Emily and when he couldn't find her either, he sought out Sheldon.

"Emily and Casey are having an important meeting in the ladies' room," Sheldon said, without having to be asked. He was given the job of watching Emily's books and lunch tray but Casey's were nowhere to be found.

"What's the story?" Derek asked.

"I dunno," Sheldon said. "Emily got a text and took off."

Derek had a feeling that beans were being spilled. He sat down in Emily's usual spot. Sheldon scooched over a couple extra inches and went back to ketchuping his dried out burger. Derek squeezed a couple ketchup packets onto his own dried out burger and tried to locate Noel. He was also nowhere to be found.

_She didn't dump him already_, Derek thought. _No way_. That was too much to hope for.

But it got closer and closer to the end of lunch and there was no Casey. No Emily. Sheldon caught Derek's eye after looking at his watch for the umpteenth time. He pulled out his phone and sent Emily a text. Derek, of course, peeked over his shoulder and saw that it read: _I have your books. Will meet you at French. _

After lunch, Derek followed Sheldon to French, knowing that Casey and Emily would be there.

"Don't you have Gym?" Sheldon asked.

"Yeah," Derek said.

"Isn't it downstairs?"

"So?"

Sheldon shrugged. They both waited. Eventually, Emily appeared, looking kind of harried, dragging Casey behind her. Derek took one look at Casey's puffy red, face and put his hand on her shoulder, which somehow led to her burying her face in his chest and sobbing all over again.

"Casey," he said. "Come on, don't..."

There was nothing else to do but hug her, but he couldn't help scanning the emptying hall for people staring at them. It didn't seem like too many people noticed. Emily dragged Sheldon into class, and Ms. Bouvier came out. Like Casey, she had a thing for really tight hairdos, but she wore pearls and furry looking sweaters that he thanked God Casey didn't wear.

She said something that Derek couldn't lipread. He assumed it was French and that she was another one of those teachers who believed in immersion. Casey picked her head up and said something back, letting go of Derek and leaving some little wet spots on his shirt. Ms. B. put her hand under Casey's chin and started asking questions, then wrote her a pass, shooing her off who knew where.

Then she turned to Derek and shocked the hell out of him. "Your class is, where?" she signed. It was a little bit clumsy, but understandable.

For a second he was dumbfounded. People seemed to like surprising him with this.

"Gym," he signed. She wrinkled her forehead. She didn't know that one.

"Gym," he said. She nodded.

She handed him a pass. "Goodbye," she signed.

He wanted to chase after Casey, but Ms. B. knew he needed to go in the other direction, so he had no choice but to go to class.

For the record, gym class was a very bad place for Derek to be distracted. They were playing basketball that day and he got hit with the ball more than once. And he knocked Cory Plunkett onto his butt. Not that Plunkett needed help getting injured. He did a pretty good job on his own.

_This day really needs to end already_, Derek thought as he picked himself up and tried to ignore Cory's glare.

Part Four: Paul.

A very weepy Casey McDonald was sent to his office. Paul couldn't say that he hadn't seen something coming. She'd been a little bit less willing to talk about herself lately. She tried to tell him that everything was just great in Caseyville. At their last session, she'd even suggested that she might not need to come _every_ week. At the time, he'd said that he'd leave it up to her, but reminded her that he was there if she needed him.

Because something wasn't right. It didn't seem like there was a real crisis, but she was clearly stressed out and working a little too hard for his liking. So when she came through his office door clutching a handful of tissues, his first thought was overachiever burnout.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I feel like an idiot, but Mademoiselle Bouvier said I should—"

"Have a seat," Paul said, getting up. He reached for the pass automatically, pretending not to notice its sogginess.

"It's really no big deal," Casey squeaked, taking the box of tissues he offered, tossing out her current clump and grabbing several.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that," Paul said.

She didn't need much prompting. "I broke up with Noel," she said.

_Heeere we go,_ Paul thought, taking a drink from his coffee cup. He remembered the last time she'd had a breakup. The Sam saga.

"It was all my fault," she continued.

"Why's that?"

"Because I...because there was someone else, and when I realized that I loved...someone else..."

"It was only fair to tell him?" Paul supplied.

"Yeah," Casey said.

"And how'd he take it?" Paul asked.

"He said 'thanks for telling me.' " she said. "And then he walked away."

Paul made a mental note to ask Ricky, the janitor whether he'd had to clean up any overturned garbage cans or anything. He could picture this Noel kid calmly walking off and then kicking something as soon as he was out of sight.

"I deserved worse," Casey continued. "I _deserved_ yelling and throwing and name-calling."

"Why?" Paul asked.

"Because," Casey said. "I just _dumped_ him. I'm a horrible person."

"So you don't think it would have been worse if you stayed with him under false pretenses?" Paul asked.

"I shouldn't have gone out with him in the first place," Casey said. "I just thought he'd help get my mind off of De— off of the other guy."

Paul nodded, pretending at first that he didn't hear her little slip, but they both knew that he did.

"Casey," he said. "There are very few things that you can tell me that will shock me and very few things that would ever have to leave this room. You know that."

"I know, I know," Casey said. "You can't tell anyone anything unless I'm in danger or know of anyone else who's in danger." She knew the drill.

"So why not just tell me everything?" Paul asked. Though, even if she hadn't slipped, he would have known exactly who "the other guy" was. In a school where teachers sometimes forgot the names of the students in front of them, rumblings about Casey and Derek had still reached the Teachers' Lounge. He refrained from commenting, but he might have choked on his coffee the first time he heard the two names in tandem.

And even though Paul prided himself on not being the type to jump to conclusions, he'd listened to her talk about stunts Derek pulled. How Derek lived to torment her. How she was studying ASL harder than anyone so that she could insult Derek more creatively. How Derek kept invading her space, joining the clubs she joined, etc. Often, his name was the first thing out of her mouth when she came for a session.

And it wasn't much of a leap to guess that the kid really _was_ following her and looking for ways to bug her because he was nuts about her, too.

"This, 'other guy'..." Paul began, using air quotes. "Does he have a name?"

"It's Derek," Casey said, with an air of "I give up."

Paul nodded.

"Please don't say you 'knew it' or you 'called it' or anything okay?" Casey said. "I've been getting a lot of that lately."

"I won't," Paul said, trying to keep his face neutral. He waited for her to say something else. When she didn't, he asked, "Have you spoken to your parents about this?"

"Yeah,"

"And?"

"They 'knew it'," Casey said, with some air quotes of her own.

"What did they say?"

"They said that we had a decision to make about what we wanted and whether it was worth it," Casey said. "But they weren't mad. Last night, George made jokes about having to switch all the bedrooms around, to keep an eye on us, but they kept telling us that it was okay, that we weren't the only ones this ever happened to."

"Okay," Paul said, gesturing for her to continue. Then, he went ahead and prompted her. "So, what's next?"

"Good question," Casey said.

"Well, you know what they say," Paul said. "The journey of a thousand miles begins with...what?"

"A single step," Casey said. "I get it. I just hope I don't trip too much."

"You know what I'm gonna say about that," Paul said.

"Yeah, I know. If I fall I just get back up again," she said. Paul was starting to feel downright predictable.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Good," Paul said. He pulled out a slip for her teacher. Just a formality, but it kept the office happy. When he opened the door to show her out, Derek was standing there. In gym clothes.

Casey immediately started in on him in ASL. Paul guessed she was saying some version of "what are you doing here?" because he grinned at her, signed a reply, and produced a hall pass. She smiled back at him and Paul suddenly felt like he was intruding on them even though this was _his _office.

Paul waved to bring them both back to earth, and Derek turned to him.

"Derek, good to meet you," Paul said, shaking the kid's hand. He handed off his pass, Coach Kaminski's signature was on it, as expected. Paul initialed it and handed it back.

"Same here," Derek said. "Bet you heard all about me."

"I'm not at liberty to say," Paul said, feeling like a dork for saying it.

"It's all lies," Derek said. Casey nudged him.

"You wish," Casey said. Then she turned to Derek. "We should go to class."

"Of course we should," Derek said, nodding and furrowing his brow, trying to look studious.

"See you Thursday, regular time?" Paul asked. He refrained from mentioning the place or the channel.

"Okay," Casey said. They turned and left. Paul watched them go down the hall. Derek grabbed one of her hands and held it, signing one-handed as they headed toward the stairs. Paul got the feeling that he might have even carried her books, but she was carrying them in a bag with a million cute kitten faces on it. He couldn't exactly blame the kid for drawing the line there. They parted at the staircase as Casey went up and Derek went down. Paul tried not to think "Parting is such sweet sorrow," but his brain would not be stopped when it came to dorky shit like that. His wife called it romantic. Everyone else laughed at him.

Part Five: Noel.

All Noel Covington wanted to do was go home and drown his sorrows in whatever junk food he could get his hands on, but Mrs. Zeldin grabbed him and got him to help her carry some stuff from the storage closet in the back of the gym.

He tried to distract himself by poking through the boxes of stuff before rehearsal started. They were full of stage props like old fashioned rotary phones, a couple of hats, a vase with some scattered fake flowers, a prop gun, which upon a closer look, turned out to be a water pistol, painted black. If you covered the little white plunger that passed for a trigger, it might actually look like a gun. From far away.

"Is this what I think it is?" Wendall said, startling him.

"What?" Noel asked.

"These," Wendall said, pulling two fake swords out of one box. He grinned, like a little kid. Noel was worried for a second that Wendall was a big _Princess Bride_ fan and that he would be told to 'prepare to die." Noel was in no mood for _The Princess Bride_, or The Princess Anything for that matter. He'd had enough of princesses. Thankfully, Wendall went in a different direction.

He started quoting Shakespeare, sort of:

"... Mercutio's soul

Is but a little way above our heads,

Staying for thine to keep him company:

Either thou or I, or both, must go with him."

Wendall looked at him expectantly. When Noel didn't know what came after that little speech, Wendall rolled his eyes.

"Philistine," he said, and handed Noel a sword. They clinked the swords together and Wendall said: "Prepare to die, Jedi Master," shocking Noel into laughter.

"Wouldn't have taken you for a _Boy Meets World_ fan," he said.

"Are you kidding?" Wendall said. "I wasted years of my life waiting for Cory and Shawn to get it on. And yes, I am aware that that rhymed."

Noel laughed harder, but then he looked up and saw Casey come through the double doors at the back of the room. She was closely followed by Derek.

Noel wasn't stupid. He'd heard rumors about Casey and Derek The only thing was, he'd heard them from the same people who said that Sheldon was nursing a long term crush on Tinker Tomlin and that Holly Hendrix was pregnant with quadruplets. So he didn't worry about it. If Casey really had a thing for Derek, Noel figured, then she would have had the decency not to lead _him_ on.

_Silly me_, he thought as she came over to him.

"Hi," she said, turning her huge, wet eyes on him. He understood that the gentlemanly thing to do was to smile and tell her that everything was just freakin peachy and that she should in no way feel guilty for lying to him or anything like that.

"Can we talk?" she said.

"Nope," Noel said.

"Noel," she said, voice cracking. He noticed that Derek was hanging back a few feet, pretending that he wasn't watching. When Noel looked up, Derek got really interested in the bulletin board.

Noel shrugged and cocked his head toward a corner of the room, beckoning her to follow.

"So what do you want to talk about?" he asked. He was going for calm, but it came out way colder than he meant it to sound.

"I want you to understand," she squeaked.

"What's there to understand?" he asked. "I mean, I know that I've been a little on the slow side here, but I think I understand perfectly."

"You _don't_," she said.

"So you didn't start going out with me to help kill the rumors about you and Derek," he said.

"No," Casey said. "I would _never_—"

"Sure," Noel said. He turned to walk away but she grabbed his arm, really digging her fingers in and yanking him back. If she'd still had long nails, he'd have been in real trouble.

"Shut up," Casey said. "I never lied to you. Stop making it sound like I was running around behind your back the whole damn time we were together. I kissed someone else, and believe you me I know _exactly_ how wrong that was and I feel awful."

_Well, gee_, Noel thought. _Wouldn't want you to __feel bad__._

"I told you as soon as I knew that I needed to break it off. You can be mad at me all you want for that kiss and for breaking up, but you have to know that I told you the truth," she said.

She said all of this in a low voice with her back to everyone else in the room, so that it looked as little like a fight as possible. That alone made him want to start yelling, but, as angry as he was, that would have taken too much energy. He couldn't possibly have drawn more attention to the two of them anyway. Every eye was on them at the moment.

"Whatever you say," he said. "Wanna let go of my arm?"

"Fine," she said. "Sorry."

Mrs. Zeldin called everyone over and the rehearsal started. Opening night was really starting to loom, so she seemed a little on edge and maybe a little paranoid. Noel coughed soon after she sent him up onto the stage, having inhaled a little bit of dust, and she descended on him.

"Please tell me, you're not getting sick," she said.

Never let it be said that Noel didn't know a good opportunity when it presented itself. "No, I'm okay," he said, just the teeniest bit hoarsely. Then he cleared his throat. He took a swig from his water bottle, assuring her that he was fine, in that same scratchy voice.

_I am a giant hypocrite_, he thought. But he needed to be out of there and away from Casey, if only for the rest of the day. He'd say a few Hail Marys later.

Zeldin sent him home, handing him his jacket, scarf and hat, making him bundle up before she let him out of her sight. He hopped the bus and realized that he didn't want to explain to his parents why he was home so early, so he got off a couple stops early and went into Smelly Nelly's.

He was seated pretty quickly and the waitress showed up just as he found the dessert section of the menu.

"What can I getcha?" she asked.

"Brownie sundae?" he said, staring at the menu.

"What flavor ice cream?"

"Chocolate."

"And what toppings?"

"What do you have?" he asked, finally looking up. She had blond hair, falling out of a bun which had pencils sticking out of it. Cute. She smiled at him and listed every kind of nut, syrup and fruit, along with crushed cookies and marshmallows.

"Okay," he said. "That."

"All of that?" she giggled.

"Had a light lunch," he said. "Surprise me."

She brought the sundae out with a little extra whipped cream, and chocolate shavings on top. "Looks like you're drowning your sorrows," she said. "Bad day?"

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"This thing I just brought you has more chocolate in it than I've ever seen in one place," she said. "In fact, I'm under strict orders to make sure that you sign an affadavit stating that you're going to have some vegetables when you get home."

"Oh yeah?" he said.

"Yeah," she said. "And if you refuse, then I just can't let you leave."

He laughed.

"That's better," she said. "I'm Sally."

"Noel," he said.

"Well, Noel," Sally said. "You just let me know when you're ready, and I'll bring you that thingee to sign."

He chuckled again as she left. The ice cream made him a little bit woozy actually, but it was a good woozy, helped along as it was by Sally, who, though probably not at all interested in him, had put the smile back on his face for a minute or two.

When he got home, he crashed on the couch, and didn't think about Casey again until his Mom asked about her.

"Think she'd come over for dinner this Sunday?" Mom asked.

And just like that, he was depressed again.

Part Six: Casey.

If it was possible, Casey felt even more guilty when Noel faked sick and took off. And she knew that she hadn't imagined the eyes that turned to her as he walked out. Meanwhile there was Derek. He was touching her more than he ever willingly had in public, rubbing her arm, or tilting her chin toward him so that he could sign alternately wiseass and sweet things to cheer her up when his interpreter wasn't looking.

"You're cute when you're E-M-O," he signed.

She rolled her eyes.

"It's going to be okay," he signed. For some reason, Derek's serious! face was the one that got to her the most. Maybe because she didn't see it often enough. More likely it had something to do with those brown eyes looking into hers and not kidding around. They looked adult, capable. Trustworthy even. As much as he liked to tease her, no one with those eyes was ever going to hurt her.

"Think so?" she signed.

"Trust me?"

"Trick question?" she signed, beginning to crack a smile.

"Smartass," he signed.

"I trust you," she signed.

He nodded.

TBC.

A/N: Went through some difficulty coming up with another dog for Ralph, but eventually decided that in this universe as in most others I shall write, Ralph must have a Hagrid.


	46. Chapter 46

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

A/N: Shout out and special thanks to EreshkigalGirl.

Chapter Forty-Six.

Part One: Sam.

Sam had had actual customers at work, so his cell stayed in his pocket unused. This was unusual for him. He wasn't the biggest talker in the world, but he might send a text or two to people if business was slow. Or he might call his Mom to make sure that he didn't need to pick anything up on the way out.

Which reminded him. He pulled out his cell and dialed home. He was immediately told to pick up half and half and some mini fruit pies. Then he called Lana because he'd barely had a chance to talk to her all day. Derek liked to joke that Sam got the shakes if he didn't get a Lana-fix. Sam refrained from making any jokes about pots and kettles. Or just straight up asking if he was jealous that Sam could be _openly_ whipped while Derek was too stupid to even tell _Casey_ how crazy he was about her.

"So, how was your day, dear?" Lana joked.

"Endless," Sam said. "Boring. And totally devoid of hot blonds."

"You poor baby," she said.

"You have no idea how close I am to climbing into your window," Sam said.

Lana laughed. "If you like," she said. "But that little tree will _not_ hold you; I'm telling you right now. Even though I would've enjoyed a Zack/Jessie moment. So where are you?"

"Prescott," Sam said. "I could be under your window in ten."

"Yeah, but my parents are home, and you know my Dad's sense of humor," Lana warned. "He just got a new garden hose and is not above using it."

"Ugh, why don't you have parents who go out and neglect you?"

"Can't have everything," Lana said. "But you know what you _should _do is call Derek. Or go see him."

"Eh," Sam said. "On one hand, nobody cares if I climb into his window, but he just doesn't have your legs, so it's not worth the trouble."

"Cute," Lana said. "But you really need to get to the bottom of what happened with him and Casey today so you can report back to me. I've been hearing all kinds of conflicting stuff."

Sam stopped short even though the wind was starting to pick up. "Wait...what?"

"You telling me you didn't hear anything?"

"That's what I'm telling you," Sam said, thinking _Damn World History paper_, because he'd spent half the day either in class or with his nose in huge dry library books. "Start at the beginning."

She told him what she'd heard "Casey and Noel broke up. I don't know who did the dumping, but Linda told me that Casey was bawling outside of French class and that Derek was comforting her."

"Comforting?"

"Hugging," she said. "Kissing her hair. Telling her it's okay and stuff. In _public_. So this is _big_, right?"

Sam laughed. "I'm gonna kill him."

"And you know, half the people are talking about what a good stepbrother he's being, and half are like 'kiss her already!' "Lana said.

"And still I missed all of this," Sam said.

"You're a boy," Lana teased. "Boys do that. But there's hope. You can rise above your boyhood and get me some details."

Sam sighed. "Lemme see what I can find out."

After he hung up with her, he hit the speed dial for Derek's cell, but before he pressed send, he got a better idea. He dialed their house phone.

"McDonald-Venturis," Edwin said after he picked up.

"Edwin!" Sam said. "Just the man I wanna talk to."

"I don't have any money," Edwin said, automatically.

"Who am I, Derek?" Sam asked. "I'm not gonna ask you for money. Why so suspicious?"

"Sorry. Just a reflex," Edwin said. "So, _Molly_, what can I do for you?"

"First, why don't you go to the games closet or your room or something so you can talk freely?" Sam asked.

"Games closet? Why would anyone go in _there_?" Edwin asked in a lower voice. Sam got the distinct feeling that Ed was covering his mouth, too.

"Yeah, okay," Sam said. "We'll go with that. But get out of earshot. And lipreading distance."

There was a pause, and then Edwin said, "Okay, what can I do ya for?"

"What the hell's been going on over there?"Sam asked.

"Dude, what hasn't been going on over here?" Edwin said.

"I'm a little out of the loop so if you can help a guy out," Sam said. "Your brother has not been forthcoming."

"Okay," Edwin said. "So, first Derek pulled this 'I wanna go away to school' thing, which Lizzie and I officially don't know about if anyone asks. Then, and I'm just piecing this together, but then, Casey went into his room, probably to tell him not to go..."

"Seems like a good guess," Sam said.

"Yeah, and yesterday we found out that they kissed," Edwin said. "And she broke up with Noel. Noel's pissed and Casey's '_the worst person ever_.' " Edwin tried to imitate Casey on this last bit and failed miserably.

"And how 'bout Derek?" Sam asked.

"I dunno," Edwin said. "I have a theory that someone else is wearing a Derek suit. Like in _Men in Black_. I saw him rubbing Casey's _back_, dude."

Sam laughed. "Sounds serious."

"You have no idea," Edwin said. "It's like I don't even know them anymore. So, are you gonna use this information against him?"

"What kind of friend would I be if I did that?" Sam asked.

"His best friend," Edwin said.

"Exactly," Sam said. "But don't worry. I didn't hear it from you."

"Good enough," Edwin said.

Next, he texted Derek: _Is it later yet? _And waited for a reply.

_Huh_? Derek sent back.

_You said you'd explain what's been going on with you later. And seems like later, dude,_ Sam sent.

_What,_ Derek sent,_You trying to say that Edwin didn't tell you everything just now?_

_What do you mean?_ Sam replied. But he knew the cover was blown.

_Edwin keeps trying to tell me he was on the phone with a girl, _Derek sent. _Even I'm not that stupid._

_Says you_, Sam sent.

_Wow, hostile much?_ Derek sent. _What's your damage?_

_I don't like being out of the loop_, Sam sent.

_What do you still need to know?_ Derek sent.

Actually, Sam didn't think there was much else to know. _How's Casey doing?_

_Better than she was, _Derek sent. _Got her to stop wringing her hands and throw a roll at me. _

_You can make out with her now. You know that, right? _Sam sent. _No more food fights._

_Bite your tongue_, Derek replied.

Sam rolled his eyes. Sometimes he really did feel like he was surrounded by idiots. _Anyway_, he sent, _give Casey a hug from me. See you tomorrow._

Part Two: Derek.

He felt a little bit guilty (who knew guilt was contagious?) when Noel took a powder, but Derek thought it was a pretty good day overall. Maybe there were a few too many tears for his taste but he got Casey to laugh a little at rehearsal so that was okay. Sometimes it was like he lived to get Casey to roll her eyes and smack him, but that day she laughed first, then smacked him and that was so much better.

For rehearsal, they'd been interacting through an empty door frame rather than a closed door to see what Casey did behind the "door" and time his responses so that he wouldn't be talking over her too much. Derek and Casey had had to kick and knock on empty air for the last couple of weeks. That day, however, Zeldin presented them with the actual door, connected to an actual wall. Okay, the whole thing was on wheels, but it was still a big deal.

Also, for the first time, Derek was aware that people were actually watching them and it didn't freak him out as much as he thought it would. They were mostly watching Casey anyway.

Mrs. Z had to stomp on the stage to get his attention; he'd gone off into his own world.

"Okay," she said when she had his attention. "Time for a break." She was all starey-eyed and that couldn't be a good sign.

He gave the door an experimental kick and immediately got a responding kick from the other side. So he opened the door and poked his head in.

"Sup," he said.

"Need a drink," she signed. "You?"

"Yeah," he signed. With a certain amount of ceremony, he walked through the door and shut it behind him making her laugh again. As they walked over to the soda machines, Derek noticed that Casey was looking at him funny.

"What?" he signed.

"You made Mrs. Z. cry," she signed.

"Shut up," he signed. "I wasn't that bad."

"Moron," she signed. "You're good."

He snorted. "Whatever," he signed. "Just for that, the pop is your treat. And no diet anything."

"You don't feel eyes on you right now?" she signed.

"They're waiting to see if we're gonna make out," he signed.

Casey shook her head.

"I know," he signed. "What do they take us for? Even without the PDA rule, we'd still have to wait a couple days, no?" She shook her head again.

"Oh, so you think we can go ahead and make out right now?" he signed, unable to resist.

"Stop it!" she signed. And just like that she had a guilt relapse.

So he stared saying random stuff like how cute she was when she was emo and when that didn't do the trick he abandoned everything he stood for and took the earnest approach, telling her that everything would be okay.

"Think so?" she signed.

"Trust me?" It occurred to him that just a week before, that would have been a stupid question to ask. The answer would definitely have been no. It was a Casey rule: Never trust Derek. It was right up there with Never Listen to Derek, Never Eat Things Derek Cooked (though that might be a carb thing) and Never use the Bathroom after Derek.

"Trick question?" she signed, beginning to crack a smile.

"Smartass," he signed. For once at the precise moment that he wanted her to be serious, she had to discover her inner, well, smartass.

"I trust you," she signed.

He nodded. It would have been a good time to kiss her. He didn't necessarily even care if people were looking this time. But _she_ did. And people were looking. That was just _weird_. Didn't anybody have anything better to do?

For the whole rest of the rehearsal, it felt like someone was always stealing a peek at the two of them.

But when they got home, they managed to find a little time for themselves, if only because the 'rents were cooking and he'd bribed Edwin to set the table. Lizzie, for her part, just decided to give them a break, Derek thought, dragging Marti off to play dolls or something.

"But I wanna see!" Marti said.

They went into Casey's room and shut the door. Casey more or less pounced on him and took away several precious IQ points. How a girl could do that just by sticking her tongue in his mouth or by nibbling on his ear, he didn't know. He was used to being the one who did that stuff. _He_ was the nibbler. The tickler. Now he was the one standing against her closed door while her feather boa dangled somewhere by his unnibbled ear, driving him absolutely bugshit. While his face was still attached to hers, he fumbled for it and, after several tries, got hold of it and threw it onto her desk to get it out of the way. Then, he wonked his head into the hook it had been hanging on.

He moaned a little, and she pulled away.

_Who said you could stop?_ He thought. He would have said it if he could form words. Or signs. Or any kind of coherent means of expressing himself.

"Are you okay?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

He nodded.

"...been...wanting to do that all day," she said.

The closest thing he could come to an answer was to take a deep breath and go for another kiss. He allowed her to lead him further into the room. It was a total exercise in trust because the only things in his field of vision were her eyes, then the side of her head as she tried to look where she was going. After a little while, he felt her try to say some other stuff, but he was too busy kissing her neck to pull back and watch her lips. And he didn't plan on moving. Ever.

She tapped him two or three times before she gave him a light shove. Then she gave him another light shove and he got the idea to pull his head back a little to look at her. Before she could say anything, the lights flickered and he finally had to turn away to find Nora standing in the doorway.

They'd both been standing, fully clothed in the middle of the room, closer to the desk than the bed. Derek still jumped away from Casey like she was on fire. This somehow caused Nora to tilt her head, poke her lower lip out for a second. Then her head went down and her shoulders started to shake. For about a millisecond, he worried that she was crying, like she really couldn't stand the sight of them together at all. That after all that they'd gone through he really _was _getting shipped off (and possibly castrated) because he dared actually_ touch_ Nora's precious daughter. But then he turned to Casey and saw that _she _was laughing her head off. So he'd clearly misread the situation. Nora, her face getting redder and redder, picked her head up and said something that Derek couldn't read, but eventually he was able to piece together the idea that they thought his mini-nervous breakdown was somehow cute. Derek didn't know whether to feel relieved or offended. Maybe it was payback for all the times he laughed at Casey for one flip-out or another.

Nora leaned against Casey's door, keeping her face straight-ish, but her shoulders still shook a little and that made him want to hide under Casey's bed.

"You hungry?" Nora asked, signing "hungry." Thankfully Nora wasn't the type to wonder aloud about their appetites after eating so much of each other's faces. Derek knew that his Dad wasn't above saying stuff like that, nor was Edwin.

Derek was pretty sure that it was a rhetorical question, at least as far as he was concerned because it was never a question of _if_ he was hungry. He was _always_ hungry. So he turned to Casey to see what she had to say.

"I am_ so_ hungry," she said.

"Okay," Nora said. "So...downstairs." She looked back and forth at the two of them before she left the room. They followed close behind her, the call of the ziti overriding every other instinct, at least for the moment.

At the bottom of the stairs, Nora paused for a second and pushed Derek's hair out of his eyes. He put up the pretense of a struggle, but he was relieved that Nora was still acting like Nora.

"You need a barber," she signed.

He looked at her in mock horror.

"I forget what color eyes you have," she signed. "How do you see where you're going?"

"It's a skill," Derek signed. Nora smiled at him with her 93 teeth. Talk about a skill. She could read him already. She might have been the first one, unless Lizzie was. He didn't know. He just knew that he was no longer worried about Nora performing any impromptu surgery on him anytime soon.

Dinner was as comfortable as could be expected. Casey ate like she'd never eaten before, which was an impressive site to behold. When she caught him watching her in awe, his own fork half forgotten though it was still in his hand, she threw a dinner roll at him, so when he told Sam about that later, he hadn't been kidding.

Things just felt really good, though Derek knew that that was easy for him to say with a belly full of ziti and no one more intimidating than Smarti to deal with. It might be different in the morning. He wasn't stupid enough to think that it wouldn't be.

Part Three: Emily.

All Monday night, Casey had her phone off. After the third try to get hold of her, Emily gave up. In fact, she eventually had to put her phone on silent because it started going off like gangbusters.

This was a hell of a way to suddenly become popular.

She called Sheldon, who, thankfully didn't seem to care if Derek or Casey fell off the face of the earth and so was not pestering her for information that she didn't have. Though that lack of information really maddened her, she was happy to listen to Sheldon talk about everything and nothing. And talk he did.

"So there's an all-ages show this weekend," he said. "I heard that Serena Brooks is gonna be there. And The Cover-up." These were bands that Sheldon had mainly heard about over the Internet, but they were good enough to spark Emily's interest in the show. Then Emily tried to convince Sheldon to let her take him shopping. He hadn't caved yet, but she could feel his resolve weakening.

And then, poor guy, he couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore.

"Okay, so I tried calling Noel and he doesn't pick up," he said. "It would've helped if he was the ranting type, but who knows what kind of silent treatment he's gonna give pretty much everybody for the next...forfreakinever."

Emily, for the millionth time, wondered how it was possible that she ended up dating a boy version of Casey. His OCD was a bit milder, of course, otherwise it was all there, the keener tendencies, the clumsiness.

Except that when Casey freaked out, Emily didn't have the urge to kiss her.

"And it is just all my fault," Sheldon said. Yep, he was still talking. "I really should have known better than to help set Noel up with Casey, 'cause I am just not cut out to be a _yenta_..."

"It was _my_ idea," Emily said.

"Yeah," he said. "And _you_ should've known better, too."

"Please," Emily said. "It's not like we set them up out of the blue. She _asked_ us to."

"We shouldn't have listened," Sheldon said.

"Sheldon," she sing-songed.

"I know," he said. "I'm completely psycho, but I can't help it..."

"Sheldon."

"Yeah?"

"What're you wearing?"

There was a pause. "Babe, you saw me three hours ago."

"Do I seriously have to teach you how to play this game?"

"What?" he said. "Oh."

"Uh-huh."

"Oooohhhh," he said.

"There ya go," she said.

"Well," he said. "I took off that sweater vest."

"You little devil, you," she said. "_Just_ the sweater vest?"

"My shoes, too," he said. He was doing this on purpose, even though he knew that his clueless bumbling routine didn't work on her anymore. She groaned.

"Don't leave me hangin' babe," he said. "What're _you_ wearing? Those pajama pants with the kittens on them, I hope?"

She was, actually.

"T-shirt with maybe some Smurfs on it?" he asked.

He was picturing her too-tight, accidentally bleached old _Smurfs_ shirt, but in reality, she had on her Dad's old company picnic shirt. Best not to tell him that.

"You know it," she said.

"You're killing me," he joked. Before either of them could say anything else, Emily heard Shawna ask Sheldon for ten bucks.

"What makes you think I have ten bucks?" he said in an attempt to hold on to his cash for once. Em could just make out Shawna muttering something about how Sheldon shoveled someone's driveway so she knew he had cash. Then, Shawna started speaking a little louder for Emily's benefit, hoping that she'd help guilt him over the phone.

"It wouldn't kill your ass to loan your favorite sister ten bucks," she said.

"Sorry," Sheldon said. "What'd you say your name was again?"

Emily snorted.

"I wuv you," Shawna said.

"You may as well give up," Emily said. "A Sheldon and his money are soon parted."

"Hey!" Sheldon said. "Trying to say I'm a fool?"

"Nah," Emily said. "Just generous. Lucky for you, so am I."

"Pweeaaassseee?" Emily heard Shawna say. That baby-talk habit of hers could really get on one's nerves. Sheldon groaned in response and, Em could only guess, dipped into his wallet and gave her the money.

Which assured that the all-ages show that weekend would be on Emily. She didn't mind. Sheldon had to hang up shortly after that, though, and that she _did_ mind. It left her to her thoughts. Worries about how Casey was doing and how much Emily would need to have her friend's back in the morning started to invade. Brushing the cat seemed to help in the short run, but she hated having to wait until morning to find out what she would be dealing with.

She thought she'd have a chance the next morning when Derek honked at her from the bus stop. She climbed in gratefully and decided that this was a perfect opportunity to pump Casey for details while Derek drove them to school, but she opened her mouth and just couldn't do it. She watched the two of them together, but couldn't tell much from the car ride.

Derek pulled into a parking space at the back of the lot and turned off the engine, and Emily looked at the two of them expectantly, but still got nothing. They were so completely nonchalant, even a little cold and Emily wondered if the rumors had been total bull and _nothing_ had happened between them. She was surprisingly disappointed by the thought.

Sure, she'd had a crush on Derek forever. She was the first to admit it. He'd been kinda sexy and magnetic and he didn't get close to just anyone. But she knew a lost cause when she saw one, and she'd started the process of giving up on him even before Sheldon started working his magic, such as it was, on her. So she and Derek were friends. And she wanted to see her friend happy.

At that particular moment she was watching said friend, both friends actually, climb out of the Prince with barely a word to each other. This was just not going to fly. Emily wanted answers.

Emily climbed out and started to follow them toward the entrance, looking at them incredulously. Then unable to wait any longer she stopped abruptly and stomped on the blacktop in her boots. Took her a second to remember that stomping only ever got Derek to turn around on wood floors. She gave new meaning to the word "dumbass" sometimes.

"Okay, Casey?" she called. "Can't take it anymore."

Casey stopped and turned Emily's way. "Can't take what anymore?" Derek continued walking of course, head down, only noticing that he was by himself when he was a few meters from the door. He was just doubling back when Emily spoke again.

"You two—" Emily began. Derek's face went a little blank and Casey's paled.

Emily crooked a finger to beckon the two of them closer and looked around to see if the coast was clear.

"Are you two together or what?" Emily signed. "Tell the truth." The signing thing really did come in handy once in a while. Derek blinked a couple of times, like he wasn't sure she'd said what he thought she said. Then he and Casey looked at each other. Then Casey raised one fist and nodded it, meaning yes.

"Wow," Emily said, nodding. Both of them gave her scared bunny looks.

"Could you have told me this yesterday?" Emily asked, exasperated. "I had to hear it from the fifty people who called me last night!"

"You, too, huh?" Casey asked.

"Yep," Emily said. "I'm supposed to be your best friend, right?"

Casey nodded.

"I can keep a secret better than anyone gives me credit for," Emily said. Casey nodded again, no doubt thinking of all the times she'd more or less confessed her feelings.

"So then," Emily continued. "You'll at least text me before you get married?"

Casey groaned. "Yeah, I promise."

Derek asked for clarification. When Casey relayed what Emily said, he blinked.

"I think I need to get to class," he said, first backing away in horror, then turning and almost jogging off. Both girls laughed at him.

"So," Emily said, starting to head toward the entrance herself. "I would've thought you'd be in a better mood about this. It's what you wanted, right?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "I am. I'm just worried about what people are gonna say. I mean, Derek has more to lose than I do, so if people start to treat him like they used to treat me...you know, with the pointing and the snickering..."

"Anyone ever tell you you worry too much?" Emily asked.

"Might have heard that once or twice," Casey said.

"At any rate, I have your back," Emily said. Casey stopped and hugged her before opening the door and going inside.

Part Four: Casey.

The first couple of days, nothing really happened. Casey felt eyes on her, heard a little whispering, but it was no big deal. In public, Derek was barely a hand-holder, so that helped. But Derek was being very affectionate for Derek. He hung out by her locker. He didn't make fun of her as much, or at least, he made fun of her differently. The little jokey insults were almost always delivered in sign, to show that they were not for public consumption. In a twisted way, it made her feel really important. And loved.

Noel avoided her, and she still felt sick about hurting him. She spent a good amount of time thinking about how she could make things right with him, but continued to come up empty. But even with that hanging over her head, things seemed to be going pretty well.

Until.

Toward the end of the week, on an otherwise ordinary day, someone tripped her. She'd been walking with Emily to their math class last period when she felt someone's pointy shoe kick her in the shin. Casey went sprawling in her usual ungraceful way, trying to regain her balance but only succeeding in making a bigger spectacle of herself. There was the usual pointing and laughing.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" Emily asked, crouching to help collect Casey's books and other stuff that had flown out of her bag—keys, flash drive, bottle of hand sanitizer.

"I guess," Casey said, lifting up her pantleg to make sure she wasn't bleeding. She checked both ankles and decided that she was okay. She didn't notice that her left wrist was hurt until she used that hand to support herself as she tried to get up.

"Gah!" she said as she went down on her butt again. The laughing got louder, but after a second, the kids started to disperse, the way they usually did. Then, a pair of work boots entered her field of vision. Before she could look up to see who they belonged to, their owner crouched down to meet her.

"Sup?" Ralph said.

_Sup? _Casey thought.

"Where's it hurt?" Ralph said. Casey blinked back tears at that, suddenly having an image of Ralphie-bear kissing it better. He was an only child, but somehow knew how to do the older-brother thing.

"Just my wrist," Casey said, holding it up.

"You sure?" Ralph said.

"Yeah," Casey said. Next thing she knew, he'd picked her up and set her on her feet like she weighed nothing.

"You good?"

"Yeah."

"Going to the nurse?"

"Nah," Casey said.

"You are _so_ going to the nurse," Emily said.

"Listen to Emily," Ralph said. "She's all smart and stuff."

"It's not a big deal, guys," Casey lied. She wanted nothing more than to make a huge stink about it, but there were still too many eyes on her.

"C'mon," Ralph said, ignoring her completely as he led her to the nurse. Emily followed, even though it meant that they were both late to class because of it.

The nurse gave her a cold pack and an ACE bandage and sent her to Math.

Derek waited by her at her locker at the end of the day. "How was your day, Klutzilla?" he signed.

"Very funny," she signed, moving him aside to stow her French book and grab her English lit folder. It was awkward trying to do it with her bad wrist, so Derek, in an unprecedented move, grabbed the folder, and her bag and packed it for her. She stared at him in astonishment.

Then he handed the bag back to her. "I'm not holding your purse," he signed. She pouted. But honestly, if he'd taken it, she'd have thought that he'd lost his mind.

"You want help with the carrying, lose the kitties," he said, indicating her cute bag, the one that she went to three stores to find. She shrugged and took it.

After rehearsal, when they got home, Derek let her have his chair.

"Wow," she said. "It's almost like you're being a good boyfriend."

"I am an awesome boyfriend," he signed, pretending indignance. "You want a snack?"

She nodded.

"Ed," he called. Edwin looked up from the TV.

"Casey wants a snack," he signed.

"How nice for her," Edwin signed. Derek narrowed his eyes and Edwin got up.

"Cookies?" Edwin asked.

"Yogurt," Casey said. "Pineapple, if there's any left." After Edwin disappeared into the kitchen, it occurred to Casey that a few months ago she'd thought it was terrible the way Derek bossed Edwin around. Now, she just wanted something to eat. _Welcome to the dark side,_ she thought, _we have yogurt._

Edwin and Lizzie wanted to know what had happened, of course, and Casey tried to make it sound like a classic Klutzilla story, but Derek broke in and told them the truth.

Lizzie reacted with some old fashioned righteous anger, wanting to know who kicked her and whether Casey kicked back. Lizzie wasn't the violent type, but Casey knew that she had been in a couple of fights. One was strictly self-defense and the other one was in defense of her best friend back in Toronto. Casey doubted that even Edwin knew about that. Lizzie's anger on her behalf was vaguely comforting, as was Derek's half-assed way of pampering her.

Everybody let Casey tell the Klutzilla story when the 'rents got home. There was no need to involve them in this.

The next week was filled with dress rehearsals, so neither Casey nor Derek had time to worry about anything else. Both of them were even interviewed quickly for a local Deaf-centric magazine because it was the school's first even partially signed performance and Mrs. Zeldin announced that she'd even found some ASL interpreters to help sign the other short plays. The reported told Casey that her signing was great for a beginner, even with her stiff wrist. This was huge. It was one thing when Derek and Sam told her that she was doing well—they had to be nice to her—but this was an impartial observer. Even her instructor didn't make her head swell like this.

The next day, Casey was still feeling a little floaty. It was in the midst of this incredible mood when she saw what had been done to her locker.

TBC


	47. Chapter 47

Not Listening

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Part One: Derek.

Duct-taped to Casey's locker was a baby-doll. When they got closer to it, Derek saw that it had an extra limb and a foot glued to the top of its head. It was wearing a little t-shirt that said _Baby McDonald-Venturi. _

Derek's first reaction was annoyance at whoever took the time to pull off something so elaborate but so very unoriginal. They stole it from a _Saturday Night Live_ sketch, for Pete's sake. He shook his head at it. _Amateurs_, he thought. He turned to see what Casey thought.

Casey stood in front of it and stared at it long enough for Derek to really worry. Then she went over to it, dropped her bag and started trying to pull the tape up. She got more and more frantic as she saw that it wasn't working. She yanked at the doll, but it was stuck too strongly with too much tape for it to budge.

"Case," he said. He tugged on her arm. "C'mon, Casey. Look at me." He took her by the shoulders and turned her toward him. He grabbed her face and tried to get her to look him in the eye so that maybe she'd stop hyperventilating.

There was a crowd gathering, or maybe they were already gathered. He didn't know and he didn't care. He could see and feel people standing around, but they didn't concern him. Casey was saying something but it was impossible to read her lips; her mouth was total rubber.

_Enough talking_, he thought. He pulled her close and she buried her head in his chest. He could feel her shallow breathing. He tried to shush her because God only knew what kind of noise was coming out of her mouth and the more she freaked out, the more certain people would mock her. He really didn't get people like that. Sure, he'd pulled more than a few pranks in his day, and laughed at a lot of people but nothing had ever been like this. He never tried to make anyone cry. The couple of times people had cried over something he'd pulled, he'd gotten on his knees to beg for forgiveness before the tears had had a chance to fall all the way.

Derek looked up from the top of Casey's head to try to map out a decent escape route. He needed to get her into a classroom or anyplace else that wasn't currently populated by kids taking pictures with their phones.

Principal Lassiter came around the corner and Derek fought the usual instinct to take off before the man saw him because he hadn't done anything wrong this time. He watched Lassiter flail and yell, the vein coming out in the man's forehead and the cords standing out in his neck. To Derek, it was like watching someone have a meltdown on TV. Like one of those old newsreels with the jerky movements. None of it seemed the least bit real, but Casey flinched against his chest so it had to be. He gave her a squeeze.

"It's okay," Derek said.

He felt a hand on his shoulder; it was Lassiter. _What's up, Jerky, Sped-up Newsreel Guy?_ Derek thought. He was Principal Stop-Motion.

"— office," Lassiter was saying, starting to walk down the hall.

Derek knitted his eyebrows together. "Your office?" The man was still talking, his head turned at a bad angle for part of it.

"Sir?" Derek asked. Lassiter kept talking to the air in front of him, oblivious to the fact that Derek was _behind_ him. Derek decided to just shut up and follow the man. Any other day he'd be seething at this, but he was only able to work up some mild frustration; maybe he'd find time to be pissed off later.

Casey picked her head up from Derek's shoulder.

"Mr. Lassiter," she said. But by then they were at his office, so Derek saw no point in making a big deal. Again, any other day, he would have.

Lassiter finally turned around to face them. "Mr. Venturi, didn't I tell you to go to class?"

_Seriously?_ Derek thought. "Did you, sir?" He gestured to his ear. Then, the man remembered; Derek could see the embarrassment on his face and it took every bit of self-control not to smirk. Smirking would get him nowhere; it was best to look as innocent and helpless as possible.

"No matter," Lassiter said. "—concerns you too—"

_Ya think?_ Derek thought.

Lassiter told them to sit down. Casey took the seat that was already there and Derek grabbed one of the chairs from off to the side of the room. Lassiter called for Christine to interpret, just in case, so, Derek got up and got one more chair.

"What did you do?" Christine signed when she got there.

"Not me this time," he signed. She looked a little skeptical and this annoyed him. As if he were always getting called to the principal's or something. Really, he hadn't been in trouble for a while.

Lassiter wanted to know if either Derek or Casey knew of anyone who would be out to get them. The man focused mostly on Derek when he asked. This would make perfect sense if Derek were the one being picked on, but he'd had nothing happen to him thus far. And he couldn't think of any enemies Casey could have made. He was the one who gave her the hardest time, usually.

Casey tried to tell Lassiter that she wasn't popular, that people didn't see her until she fell down or said something stupid. Derek was reminded of the time that she tried to get one of her teachers to change her grade from a 95 to a 98. A week or two later, the same teacher gave her a 92 when Casey felt she deserved a 90. So what did Casey do? She _told the teacher to lower the grade_. And Casey wondered why people remembered her for being such a dweeb.

"But mostly people don't notice me," she finished. Derek held back a smile, remembering that, unless she dumped him over this whole mess, she was _his_ dweeb.

And obviously, in light of the reason they were in Lassiter's office, Casey was way more well-known than she thought she was. Besides, she was beautiful and still relatively new to the school. _Of course_ people knew who she was.

And Derek, of course was pretty popular himself. As he told Casey before, it could easily have gone the other way. He had the potential to be the biggest outcast, but because he played hockey he was interesting and quirky rather than freakish. People referred to his speech using words like "accent" rather than "impediment" or even "slur." He thought of himself as a pretty cool guy, but he knew luck of the draw when he saw it. And he took advantage of it.

Even so, he felt just the teeniest bit guilty when Lassiter started asking him about ex-girlfriends. He asked Derek before he asked Casey about her exes, making it seem like Derek was more of a player than he really was. Lassiter wanted to know if any of girls had taken the breakup badly.

"Don't think so," Derek said. "I've only had one other girlfriend and she dumped me. That was months ago." He'd been on a lot of dates, but had only semi-serious with Kendra.

Lassiter said something, while looking down at a notepad, so Derek turned to Christine. "What was the girl's name?" she translated.

"She didn't do this," Derek said. Even if he did think she was capable of this level of nastiness, she wasn't much of a planner.

"What is her _name_?" Lassiter repeated, looking up at him this time.

Derek said nothing. If the man thought that he was going to give Kendra up, he was nuts.

"Mr. Venturi. I can find this out on my own," Lassiter said. "Don't think you can keep this from me."

_Then why don't you?_ Derek thought, but he knew better than to say that. Instead, he shrugged. "If I thought that she did it, I'd tell you," he lied. He could tell that Lassiter was going to be useless.

He readied himself for a detention, but Lassiter shook his head and gave up. After it became clear that he wasn't getting anywhere with either of them, Lassiter asked Casey if she wanted to go home. She had to think about it for a minute.

Derek gave her a little nudge. "Go home," he signed. "Watch cartoons. Eat cereal. Take a nap." Casey wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"I just wanna go to class," Casey said.

"You sure?" Derek signed. _She wants to go to __class__? _He thought. In anyone else that would be a sure sign of insanity.

"Yeah," she said, nodding.

Lassiter got up and showed them all to the door. "If you change your mind," he said, and Christine translated. "Let me know." He and Casey nodded and the three of them headed into the hallway because Lassiter had a meeting or something.

"Hey," Derek said, taking Casey by the shoulder and turning her gently. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?" he signed.

"Yeah," Casey signed. "I want to stay."

"Think I can convince Mr. L. that I'm too upset to go to class?" Derek signed.

Casey laughed. "You're a jerk," she signed. Then she hugged him.

_I'm your jerk,_ he thought. _And you're my dweeb._ Christine pretended that she didn't notice the two of them.

"Are you two ready?" she signed.

Derek nodded, Casey shrugged and they all slipped into English class.

Part Two: Casey.

Kendra got called into the office anyway. Noel and Sam were both pulled out of class at some point too, which meant that Lassiter was even more clueless than Derek said he was. She descended upon Sam halfway through lunch when he finally made it to the cafeteria.

"I'll make it up to you, I swear," Casey said.

Sam looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Seriously, Case? Are you worried about this?"

"We didn't tell Lassiter anything, you know. He kept asking about people we dated and neither of us said anything, okay?" Casey babbled. "I don't know how Lassiter's getting finding people to interrogate—"

Sam turned to Derek. "Has she been doing this all day?" he signed.

"Yes," Derek signed. "She'll get tired eventually."

"Hey!" Casey said, nudging Derek's arm. Derek reached over and stole one of her curly fries, took time to dip it into her ketchup and popped it into his mouth.

"So what did Mr. L. say?" Derek signed.

"Didn't accuse me," Sam signed. "Asked me if I saw anything or knew anything you didn't."

"What did you say?" Derek signed.

"I asked him to be more specific," Sam signed. "I know a lot of things that you don't." Derek flipped him off.

"I know how to eat lunch without wearing it," Sam signed. Derek looked at his shirt. "Gotcha," Sam continued, grinning.

"Know how to run faster than me?" Derek signed, acting like he was going to get up and give chase.

"Usually," Sam signed, unfazed. Then, he too reached over and stole one of Casey's fries.

"Hey!" Casey said.

"You owe me," Sam teased, grabbing another one. "You said you'd make things up to me. I'm all upset." His mouth was full for this last bit, so he signed "feel upset" so that Derek was still in the loop.

Casey pulled her tray closer to herself and put a protective arm around the rest of her lunch.

"Does that mean you're gonna eat?" Derek asked. Up to that point, she'd had two bites of her veggie burger and a little coleslaw. She stuck her tongue out at him before she took another bite of her burger.

"That's my girl," he signed. This provoked a complicated reaction. Part of her wanted to giggle and beam at him (his _girl_?) and part of her wanted to squirt him with ketchup (_his_ girl?). This must have shown on her face because both Derek and Sam laughed at her. If Ralph hadn't been at another table letting some girl feed _him_ curly fries (who knew that this was the food of love?) he'd have been laughing at her too. She brandished a ketchup packet, wishing that the school used squeeze bottles—you got better control from squeeze bottles. It occurred to her that this was knowledge she never needed until she met Derek.

"There you are!" A voice said from behind Casey. She turned around and saw Lana, heading toward the table, her eyes on Sam. "I thought I was gonna have to bake you a cake with a file in it."

Casey groaned, but for some reason, wasn't upset anymore.

"Very funny," Sam said.

"I thought so," Lana said. "It's not every day that you get called to the principal's office." She shot a look at Derek. "By yourself," she added. Derek pretended to be offended by this, but she reached over and pinched his cheek.

"And a cute little troublemaker you are," she told Derek. "Right Case?"

"Meh," Casey said, shrugging.

"Just for that..." Derek began, picking up a ketchup packet and pretending to open it as he aimed it Casey's way. Casey ducked. When she peeked over the edge of the table again, she saw Derek, Sam and Lana shaking their heads at her. That "you're an idiot" look they were giving her felt pretty good for a change. It was comforting, and she felt pretty good for the first time since coming to school that morning.

That night was the final dress rehearsal. The play was opening the next night. So Casey told herself once again that she didn't have time to worry. All she had to do was avoid Kendra and Noel for the next few days. Not that she thought they were out to get her or anything. It was just that being accused of something they didn't do might have made each of them less happy to see her than usual. She saw Kendra and Noel talking, Kendra gesticulating wildly, so Casey did her best to make herself invisible as she passed them.

"Casey!" Kendra called.

_Oh crap_, Casey thought, trying to walk a little faster. She heard Kendra's heels clickety clacking as she ran to catch up. _Seems like I'm the only one who can't run in heels,_ Casey thought, with an inner groan. There was no escape.

Part Three: Noel.

Three hours earlier.

Noel and Kendra were sitting in the main office waiting to be called in when someone brought an AV cart with a VCR to Lassiter, and it wasn't hard to overhear Lassiter talking about the cameras that were set up at strategic places around the school. It turned out that there was one that had a decent view of Casey's locker and would have caught whoever had defaced it.

"Oh my gosh, those cameras actually work?" Kendra whispered. "I thought they were just for show."

"Me too," Noel said. "Now let's just hope that they haven't been using the same tape for, like, ten years."

"Wouldn't put it past 'em," Kendra said.

The door to Lassiter's office opened. "Mr. Covington," Lassiter said. "You're free to go."

_Wow, _Noel thought. _That was easy._ He gathered up his stuff and accepted a pass from the secretary. On the way out he heard:

"Miss Mason, come in here, please."

Noel turned back around in surprise. Kendra looked pretty shocked too. Part of him wanted to hang around and eavesdrop some more, but he got shooed off by the secretary.

He didn't get to find out what happened with Kendra before the end of the day when he caught up with her.

"Based on the video, two girls did it. Lassiter made me stand up against the lockers to check my height against their height," Kendra told him. "So all this time I'm going on about how I would never do anything like this. How I broke up with Derek months ago, and how I haven't gotten so much as a detention since grade six, but I got off because I was too short."

"But you're safe, though, right?" Noel asked.

"Yeah," Kendra said. "But I'm still pissed. Freakin' Derek! I knew he'd continue to be a pain in my ass. Date him for a month or two and forever get sucked into the drama. I don't know how you put up with it."

"Well, you know, I wasn't dating _him_," Noel said.

"Seems like dating Casey was just like dating Derek, though, huh?" Kendra looked at him pityingly.

"Seems that way, yeah," Noel said. "So did everyone but me know about the two of them?"

"Well," Kendra said. "From what I hear _they _didn't know either. Like they were mutually pining and neither thought they had a shot. If I didn't know the two of them I'd have had a hard time believing anyone was that stupid."

Noel snickered.

"So how mad are you?"

"I dunno," Noel said. "It's kinda hard to be mad at her when people keep picking on her and gluing shit to her locker, you know?" He _really_ resented this. He'd been just starting to get in touch with his inner brat, and now he had to send it back to the corner for a time out.

As they walked toward the exit, they passed Casey's locker and he couldn't resist looking at it. The tape had been pulled off, finally, along with a lot of paint. He could see all the different colors the lockers used to be under the blistered and ripped up top coat. He wondered if she'd been near it all day. That thought caused another little twinge of resentment because he was the only one who had a right to be pissed over this. He was the one who'd been unceremoniously dumped. He was the one who felt like an idiot because he should have seen it coming.

Casey walked by quickly, her eyes darting everywhere but at the same time avoiding two things: the locker, and Noel.

_Great_, he thought, _so now I'm the Big Bad Wolf_.

"Casey," Kendra called. Casey pretended not to have heard her, so Kendra called a quick "Later, Noel," over her shoulder and gave chase. She caught up to Casey by the stairs and the two of them started talking, Kendra doing her best to look like she didn't bite because she was the Big Bad Wolf, too. He decided not to watch. He guessed he'd get enough of Casey's scared face later anyway.

Part Four: Derek.

At rehearsal Mrs. Zeldin was in a less than magical mood. She called everyone together, made them sit in a circle and immediately began to speechify. Derek's eyes darted between Zeldin and Gary, who'd taken over Christine's interpreting stuff for the rest of the day.

"So, it's been an...interesting day hasn't it?" Mrs. Z began. She was close enough to put her hand on Casey's shoulder. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you all what happened earlier today, and I'm also sure that I don't need to tell you the importance of teamwork..."

_Next, she's gonna say that we need to stick together, _Derek thought.

"We all need to stick together in times like these," Mrs. Z. said. "That's what the theater is about..."

The week before, the theater had been about self-expression and sharing of art. Derek didn't remember what it had been the week before that.

"And we're all going to support each other, aren't we?" Mrs. Z. said.

"Aren't we?" she repeated. Derek looked around to see a few heads nodding unenthusiastically. She seemed to decide not to push for more enthusiasm.

Noel's play was up first, so he, Wendall and Cori Shapiro climbed up onto the stage.

Wendall and Cori played Noel's parents, sitting stone-faced on a couch while Noel explained why there was a bumper hanging off of the family car. Derek had it all memorized. It wasn't just him, though. Everybody seemed to know everyone else's part.

"Let me guess. A big nasty tree jumped out and attacked you?" Wendall asked, arms crossed. It was an amazing thing, watching this skinny, turtleneck-wearing grade eleven turn into a Dad. In fact, he seemed to turn into _Derek_'s Dad.

"It wasn't a tree," Noel said, gritting his teeth. Then he launched into his story about the car, his parents interrupting at odd intervals, both with that I've-seen-it-all air that parents have when kids lie. Derek was reminded of how he had used Noel's monologue for his audition and had originally really wanted that part, much more than the one he'd eventually gotten. He found himself having to suppress the desire to grab Noel by the ankles and give him one epic swirlie for playing the part better than Derek ever could have.

He stole a peek at Casey and of course she was watching the whole thing intently. He gave her a little shoulder nudge. She smiled and nudged back, without taking her eyes off the stage.

When Noel's bit was done, Derek did his best to join in the applause, but then he turned to Casey and signed, "I'd give it a five out of ten."

"Jealous much?" she signed, smirking.

"Me?" he signed, trying to look offended. "Jealous?"

"You are green," she signed.

"I look good in green," he signed, grinning.

Casey rolled her eyes, then she reached up and pulled her hair into a ponytail, using a hair thing she'd had on her wrist. This was a gesture that drove Derek nuts. Girls, most girls, managed to make things like this look sexy, no matter how quick and business-like it was supposed to be. It was in the way her arms went up, the way her top rode up a couple of inches. Then there was the exposed neck. He killed this line of thought because following it would be asking for trouble. At any rate, the second she had her head turned Derek took the thing out of her hair and stuffed it into his pocket.

"De-rek!" she yelped, going right for his pocket. He put up a little bit of a fight, running a few steps toward the stage, but not so fast that she wouldn't be able to catch him.

Before she got a chance to actually stick her hands into Derek's front pockets (he'd been really looking forward to that part) Casey suddenly stopped what she was doing and turned pink.

"What?" Derek asked. Casey shook her head and looked at the ground. Derek looked up and saw Wendall coming.

"— blushing!" Wendall was saying. "Look at your little face!"

Casey tried to cover her face with her hair. Derek did his best to help her cover her face more. It was an improvement, he said. When she scowled at him, he pulled her into a one-armed hug.

"Jerk," she said, after he pulled away. It was fast becoming his new pet-name.

Before too long, he and Casey were called up to the stage to run through their play. The first part of it, the argument, went perfectly, the both of them being such natural arguers. The second she slammed the door on him, though, it all went to hell.

The worst part of it was that Derek didn't know that things were going wrong at first. There he was, saying his lines, trying to wheedle Casey into opening the door, when Zeldin signaled to him from the wings. It looked like she'd been trying to get his attention for a while, but he could just barely see her from behind the door.

"Ten minute break," Mrs. Z said, holding up ten fingers.

"Oookay," Derek said. He shook his head and peeked around the door to see a very red-faced Casey, wringing her hands.

"What's going on?" Derek signed.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Casey said. Derek waited for her to change her mind and start talking. This time, however, she stayed where she was, head down, and not saying anything.

"Case," he said. "Casey, come on." He opened the prop door and stepped through it. He had a feeling that it wouldn't make her laugh this time, but he thought it was worth a shot. "What is it?"

"Just embarrassed," she signed. "Messed up my lines. I'm the wrong person for this play. No talent."

"Yeah, but you fit the costume," Derek signed. He waited for her to laugh, hit him, get pissed...anything, but she just looked down again.

"That was a joke, Casey," he said, titling her chin up..

"I'm not in the mood for jokes," Casey said.

"In that case, you might wanna wait a while before you go into your room tonight," Derek said. He hadn't done anything to her room, but if that didn't get a rise out of her, nothing would.

It didn't work.

"I want this day to be over," she said.

Derek nodded. That was fair enough. "We're almost there." Casey shrugged. She was just tired, he guessed, and let it go. He tried putting his arm around her, but she wiggled out of his grasp. _That can't be good,_ he thought.

"Going to ladies' room," she signed. "Back in a few." He nodded. He sat on the nearest folding chair and tried to think of ways to distract her for a little while. He knew that Casey tended to fixate on stuff, but this was ridiculous. He had a feeling that all she could think of was that doll stuck to her locker, and that that image would not be leaving her head for a while.

A thought that Derek had been pushing out of his head all day came back into his head and refused to move. It was the idea, the _knowledge_, that she would have been better off with Noel. He had the feeling that he was a coward for giving up on the residential school idea so easily, that he should have thought of it even earlier. He could have switched schools before the second semester started, even. He could have avoided this whole mess.

Now he was probably going to be dumped. It hadn't even been a week, but he just couldn't expect her to put up with this crap. And he had the feeling that this was only the beginning. The baby doll at the locker hadn't been all that inventive, but people had a way of getting more creative given time. He tried to steel himself for when she came back from the bathroom. She wouldn't dump him right there in the gym (it had been bad enough breaking up with Noel at school) but it would be on her face. She'd definitely do it when they got home. And he'd have no choice but to let her. If it had been any other girl, Derek would pull the old Pre-emptive Strike to save his ego, but this was Casey and he couldn't.

When she came back into the gym, Derek could see her puffy pink eyes from halfway across the room. She'd pulled her hair back again, too tight, as usual. She walked directly over to him, looking determined.

Shit, she's gonna do it now, he thought. He took a deep breath.

"Can we talk for a minute?" she signed. He took another deep breath. "Okay," he signed. "Where?"

She sat down next to him.

"Should we at least go out in the hall?" he signed.

"If you want," she signed. She led the way through the double doors, so that she could rip his heart out in private.

"Let me have it," Derek signed.

"Glad I have your permission," Casey said. "It's really (mumble) of you (mumblemumble)."

Derek squinted, trying to concentrate in the hopes that he wouldn't have to ask her to repeat herself, because this was not a good time to do that. She was already mad at him and he didn't even do anything wrong.

"It's not enough that I'm getting treated like crap and you are completely (mumble—)"

"I'm what?" he asked. He couldn't help himself.

"Untouched," she said. "Clean." She signed both to make sure he got it this time.

"What do you want me to do about that?" Derek signed.

"I don't know!" Casey signed.

"Okaaay," Derek signed.

"And now you're gonna dump me!" she signed.

"Huh?"

"What," Casey asked. "Did I sign it wrong? This..." She demonstrated, miming the emptying of a cup or a can. "Means 'dump' right?"

"What?" Derek said. "Yeah, it does. But you thought I was gonna dump you? Are you kidding me? Why would you think that?"

"Because," she said. She pulled some folded paper out of her pocket and handed it to him. It was a pamphlet, detailing places that a person could find support groups as an incest survivor. There was a little handwritten note along the border on one side: _ITS TIME TO STOP THE INSANITY CASSEY!!!_

"They misspelled your name," Derek pointed out.

"I know," Casey said. "And they left out an apostrophe." She drew an apostrophe in the air to illustrate.

"But I don't think they're gonna stop this."

"Didn't even notice the apostrophe," Derek shrugged.

"They didn't even check their grammar, for Pete's sake," Casey said. She shook her head in annoyance at having to share a world with the grammatically inept. Derek laughed. _This_ was his Casey.

"And you think I'd dump you because of this?" Derek asked, grinning like she was a very silly girl indeed.

"What if people keep doing this until I go crazy and you leave town to get away from me?" she asked.

He almost said: "If I was afraid of a little crazy, would I have ever made it this far with you?" But an uncharacteristic bit of wisdom stopped him.

"Casey," he said. "I wish I could figure out who's doing this and put a stop to it. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," she said. "Because you're the only one who gets to pick on me, right?"

He thought for a minute. "Lizzie, too. And Smarti. But maybe not Edwin," he said. That raised a little hint of a smile.

"I love you," he signed.

"I love you, too," she signed.

"Will you let some idiot who can't spell your name ruin it?" he signed.

"No," she signed.

"Okay," he signed. "Good." He leaned in and gave her a little peck on the mouth.

He put an arm around her, and they walked back though the double doors of the gym/caff/auditorium.

Where they were accosted by Wendall and a couple of girls who descended on Casey. Before Derek knew what was going on, he'd been pushed several feet away. He stood bewildered and watched the small group envelop Casey. He was reminded of the Peanuts gang trimming their Christmas tree and was half-disappointed that she didn't come out covered in ornaments. When she finally did emerge, she was laughing.

"What was that?" Derek signed.

"That was support," Casey said. "Group hug."

"It was a little creepy," Derek signed.

"I think you need one, too," Casey signed. "Guys?" she called out, beckoning them over. Then she pretended to descend on him like something out of _Night of the Living Dead. _Derek ran off in horror, hiding behind Mrs. Zeldin. She seemed used to this, like zombies always attacked her dress rehearsals. She said something to Casey, about not eating his brain until _after _opening night. She still had her back to Derek, but Gary, who'd been talking to her during the break and, as such, had been standing right there, translated. Then she turned around to face Derek.

"Are you ready for another run through?" she asked.

"Sure," Derek said. "Ready to make magic happen."

"Good," Zeldin said. "Because if you screw up, I'll let Wendall feed you to his dog." Wendall nodded from behind her.

"I like her," Gary signed when her back was turned.

"You would," Derek signed.

Casey played her part with a lot more anger than she had been, and it worked. Before, she'd worried too much about getting the signs right, just as Derek worried too much about enunciating (and causing feedback with the little microphone that was currently hidden in his hair) when he had to speak. Derek was still worried about the microphone and whether people understood his speech, of course, but not as much, and Casey seemed to forget all about all of her stuff. She looked like she'd been signing for a year or two instead of the six or seven months that she'd been doing it in reality. Derek was pretty sure that he wasn't too bad. Wendall would have been all too happy to tell him if he was stinking up the place—he called it constructive criticism but Derek knew that Wendall had originally wanted this part. But Casey was amazing. She was going to nail it.

Part Five: Ralph.

Ralph and Sam got roped into being ushers for the play. It was because Mrs. Z expected some Deaf people to come and they needed to be shown to their seats and have their questions answered by people who knew how to sign. Mrs. Z. had gotten Edwin, too. Ralph was happy to do it, especially since there had to be a cute girl or two coming. Plus, it meant that they got in for free. There were also a handful of volunteer signers for the actual performance and Gary, Derek's interpreter dude, was going to be backstage with them for part of the time. _He_ would be paid, though.

The only thing that sucked was that they had to dress up a little—dress shirts and (gasp) ties with slacks. He tried to make the best of it, wearing a tie with some drums on it. It was black on black, so you couldn't see them unless the light hit it a certain way. That was important because they had to make sure that nothing distracted people from their hands. Their shirts were dark, too; Sam's was dark blue and Ralph's was black.

"Are you going to make me an offer I can't refuse?" Derek signed when he saw Ralph. Derek had a thing for _the Godfather_. Ralph didn't get it.

"I look awesome," Ralph signed. Then he smirked at Derek. "Nice hair."

Derek self-consciously touched his neatened hair and Casey slapped his hand away, even though it looked to Ralph like it would never move again. There was a lot of stuff in it, holding it down. Made him look older.

Also, and this was the weirdest thing of all, Derek had makeup on. There was stuff around his eyes and on his cheeks. Ralph absolutely itched to tease him about it, about how pretty he was. But he decided to take pity on him for the moment. He did take a picture on his phone for later, though.

"I feel like an idiot," Derek signed. Ralph rolled his eyes. Even with the makeup, he didn't think Derek had a right to complain because at least he didn't have to wear a tie. He was sitting there in a wifebeater and an open shirt.

"How's your stomach?" Sam signed.

Derek shrugged like he didn't know what Sam meant. "Fine," he signed. "How's yours?"

"Great," Sam signed. "I'm not going up in front of a couple hundred people and do a play in two languages."

Derek's stomach made a little noise at this. Derek, of course, had no idea that they could hear it and tried to pretend that his stomach was fine.

"Two hundred people," Casey mumbled. She had to sit down.

"You look hot," Ralph said, trying to help. "Where'd you get those shoes?" They were black, with thick heels, like people wore in the forties. He stared at her legs and forgot what he was saying.

_Derek's girlfriend-Derek's girlfriend-Derek's girlfriend,_ Ralph thought.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. Derek wasn't paying attention. Casey tugged at her skirt even though it was already covering her knees (skirts like that should be outlawed in Ralph's opinion).

They were in that same tiny classroom that they'd used for Clash of the Bands. There were fewer people in it this time, but somehow it seemed more crowded. Theater people were sort of loud, Ralph thought, especially that Wendall kid who was being really annoying. Casey said he was warming up his voice. Nobody else was. Not even Casey.

Noel came in from the hallway and Wendall turned to him. "You know, you should really be warming up, too," Wendall told him.

"I would, but I just ate," Noel said. "And you're supposed to wait an hour before you do any singing. Especially scales."

"You're an idiot," Wendall said, rolling his eyes.

"I thought that was swimming," Ralph said. "Like you had to wait an hour after you eat before you go _swimming_."

Wendall, Casey, Noel, and Sam stared at Ralph for a second. He'd had a slow moment. This was why people thought he was an idiot sometimes. _Oh well_, he thought.

Meanwhile, Derek, since Noel was in the room, pretended that he _wasn't_ about to hurl. Now _that_ was stupid. Since Noel looked only a little less green.

Casey handed Derek a mint to suck on. She had a whole bag of them on a little table next to a bunch of makeup and hairbrushes and stuff. Sam and Ralph had both brought antacids. Edwin had a little baggie with a toothbrush and toothpaste. Edwin also had a paper bag for Casey to breathe into, just in case. When he handed it to her, she gave him a dirty look, but everyone knew she'd need it.

"So, you guys gonna rock this or what?" Ralph said, to no one in particular. He got a couple of "yeahs," a "damn right," and a groan. The groan was from Casey.

"Didn't you say that you were the lead in everything back in Toronto?" Sam asked.

"So?" Casey asked. "It was a smaller school. Nobody really cared. This was in the paper! Mrs. Zeldin said tonight was sold out. Nothing I've ever been in has been sold out."

"But that's a good thing!" Ralph said, grinning.

Casey took hold of the paper bag, shook it out. "Are you guys gonna be checking the audience members to make sure they didn't bring outside food?"

"Huh?" Ralph asked. "Like popcorn? Hard candy with the loud wrappers?"

"Like rotten tomatoes," Casey said, before taking a breath into the bag. "Or cabbages." Since her mouth was covered, Derek had to ask Gary what she was saying. When Gary told him, Derek rolled his eyes.

"Cabbages again?" Derek signed.

"Those don't sound like they make good theater food," Ralph said, deliberately playing stupid this time. "_I _usually just bring some Altoids."

Casey laughed, and so did a couple of other people who'd been milling around. That Wendall kid was proving to be a hard nut to crack, though.

"I don't get it," Ralph said, scratching his head. "What would they want with cabbage? Do you think they wanna make salad?"

"Yeah," Derek said, putting an arm around Casey. "A Casey salad." It was the first time anyone had heard his voice in a couple hours.

"What kind of dressing goes with that?" Ralph asked.

"Honey mustard," Sam said.

"Some sort of balsamic thing," Noel said.

"Bleu cheese?" Edwin said.

Derek groaned and held his stomach, signing that he'd be right back before he left for the men's room.

"Thank God someone puked before me," Noel mumbled.

"Rolaid?" Ralph said, holding out the little roll like it was Lifesavers.

"Thanks," Noel said, accepting one and crunching it. "You always this prepared?"

"Comes in handy," Sam said.

"Hockey playoffs," Ralph said.

"Clash of the Bands," Sam said, looking at Ralph.

"Class debates," Ralph said, busting Sam right back.

"Anyway," Sam said. "It always works out, and nobody's ever thrown stuff. Not even at Ralph."

"And Sam only passed out that one time," Ralph said.

Derek came back all minty-fresh, a dead giveaway, but everyone pretended that they hadn't noticed.

"Thanks, you guys," Casey said, pecking Sam and Ralph on the cheeks. "You have no idea how many times I almost quit this week."

"You almost _what_?" Noel asked.

"Oh, so you're talking to me again?" Casey asked.

Noel shrugged. "Was it because of the locker thing?" he asked.

"And the tripping in the hall," Casey said. "And the pamphlets for the incest support group. Not to mention the fact that people now sing the theme to _Deliverance_ when I pass them."

"Jesus," Noel said.

"Feel like I should be checking the rafters for buckets," Casey said.

"Caseeey" Wendall said, coming over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Security went up after the pamphlet incident. There's no bucket. No pig's blood. And we have your back. So save the drama queening for me."

That was a little hard for Gary to translate, but he did his best and it cracked Derek up.

Casey started to go mushy. "Wendall," she squeaked, holding out her arms to hug him. He gave her a squeeze.

"Tell ya what, though," Wendall said, pulling back and beeping her nose. "If you get more applause than me, I'm going Miss Piggy on your ass."

"Not likely," Casey said.

"Very likely," Noel said. "Especially the way Hammy Hammerson chews the scenery."

"Hammy Hammerson" Gary mumbled as he tried to translate.

"I meant," Casey said, "that nobody's going to give me more applause—"

"Oh, what-EVER," Noel said. "Fishing much?"

"Maybe a little," Wendall teased. He held his thumb and forefinger a couple millimeters apart.

"Casey?" Derek said. "Fishing? Noooo." She gave him the stink eye. He smiled at her. Then he pulled her close. Really close. _In front of people._ This was _Derek_. He didn't do stuff like this much. Sam and Ralph looked at each other. Sam shrugged. Ralph, for his part, wondered why there was hugging and no kissing. If he was going to break the PDA rule anyway, he should go ahead and kiss her.

Mrs. Zeldin came in before Derek could do anything else.

"Kids," she said. "We're opening the doors, and it'd be nice if we had some _ushers_."

"Oh yeah," Sam said. "I knew we were here for a reason."

"To meet girls?" Ralph asked. Sam shook his head.

"Let's go," Sam said. "Edwin!"

Edwin was trying to convince a girl that he was a super genius, already at university. She wasn't buying it, but she pinched his cheek as he pulled himself away from her.

"Break a leg, y'all!" Edwin said to the room.

"_Y'all_?" Casey asked.

"Maybe I shouldn't encourage_ you_ to break a leg," Edwin said. "You're pretty good at injuring yourself already."

"You shouldn't say things like that when Lizzie's not around to protect you," Casey said.

Edwin's eyes got big. "You've been hanging around Derek too long." He turned and jogged to the hallway.

Sam grabbed Ralph by the collar and dragged him out, too.

Part Six: Casey.

"Come here," Derek said.

"What's gotten into you?" Casey asked.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked. Casey cocked her head to one side and squinted at him.

"You complaining?" Derek said.

"No," Casey said. "It's just different. This counts as public, you know."

"Yeah," Derek said.

"Breaking rules," Casey said.

"Rules?" he asked. When she nodded, he said, "When have I ever followed the rules? You could stand to break a few."

Casey scoffed. Like that was gonna happen. Being with him was rebellion enough for her.


	48. Chapter 48

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Forty-Eight.

Part One: Nora.

Nora, Lizzie, and Marti had a good time getting dressed up for opening night. They were going to the opening of a play. It was culture. George looked at them funny, of course.

"Dah-ling," Nora teased. "You do understand, don't you, that we are going to the theatuh and one just does not do that in your beat-up jeans and a Grateful Dead t-shirt."

"Doesn't one?" George asked.

"Of course not," Nora said, looking shocked. "It's just not done!"

Marti giggled.

"Okay then," George said. "What does one wear to sit on folding chairs in the high school cafetorium?"

"I think it's also the gym," Nora said.

"The gymnacafetorium," George corrected himself.

"_Nice_ jeans," Marti said.

"And Derek's tuxedo t-shirt?" George asked.

"Dad-dy!" Marti said, like he was the silliest Daddy ever. "That shirt's too small for you."

Marti still couldn't quite reach the shirts in the closet but Lizzie could, and she pulled out a blue silk thing that Nora had gotten him. "What do you think, Marti?"

"Yeah, that one," Marti said. "And the socks I got you." She opened the dresser and pulled out a pair of loud, striped socks. Nora knew that he liked to wear them to the office once in a while, on days when he was feeling a little blah. He told her that he loved to see the looks on people's faces when his pantleg rode up.

"Of course," George said. "The socks make the man." He shooed the girls out so that he could change, making sure to compliment Lizzie's new top and Marti's skirt and tights before they left. "Wouldn't want to look like too much of a schlub up against you three."

"What's a schlub?" Marti asked.

"Like a dweeb," Lizzie said.

"Oh," Marti said. They left, each wearing a little bit of Nora's perfume, and it wasn't long before they heard a little bit of tippy-tapping as Marti danced up the stairs in her dress shoes. Lizzie was a little too shy, still, to follow suit.

George changed quickly and they piled into the car, singing along to the oldies station as they went, and Abby met them at the door. They were met at the door by some cute kid who introduced himself as Max. He was tall, broad-shouldered and had Lizzie and Marti's undivided attention for a couple of minutes, at least until they spotted Sam and Ralph, and then Edwin. Edwin found a little time to wave, but then was tapped by an older lady who started signing questions to him so he turned to her. A few feet away, Sam blushed hard at somebody who was most likely paying him some sort of compliment. Sam didn't do well with compliments. He, smiled, signed a quick thank you to the woman he'd been talking to, and moved on to the next group.

"When did this happen?" Abby asked.

"What?" Nora asked, but she had an idea what she meant.

"When did Sam and Ralph grow up?" Abby asked. "I remember when the three of them used to watch cartoons in the living room."

"That was last weekend," Nora joked.

Abby laughed. "But look at them!"

"I know," Nora said. Ralph, usually the goofiest of the three, looked serious, even poised. He was really only telling people where the bathrooms were and that there'd be refreshments at intermission, but he took the job seriously.

"We gotta take pictures of them later," Abby said.

"Definitely," Nora said.

"If you guys are acting like this now, what are you gonna do when they go to prom?" George asked.

"Cry," Nora said. Abby nodded.

"Do I have to separate you two?" George asked.

The Davises came in and sat nearby, and when the Schleppers came, Emily went over to Sheldon and he wrapped an arm around her.

"Ooh? When did these two happen?" Abby asked.

"_Months_ ago," Nora said.

"I feel like I've missed all the gossip," Abby said. "I remember those two when they were little, too. Sheldon's face hasn't changed since he was ten. He's just taller," she squinted. "And a little bit stubbly. Oh God, I'm so old."

"Join the club," Nora said.

A few rows in front of them, off to one side, Edwin was signing to a couple, telling them something about their seats. Nora couldn't quite figure out what he was saying. Nora was about to ask Abby if she could make it out from her angle when George groaned.

"What?"

"He said that the seats become a flotation device in the unlikely event of a water landing," George said.

"He didn't," Nora said.

"That's what it looked like to me, too," Abby said, grinning and shaking her head.

"These seats really float?" Marti asked, doubtfully. "They're metal."

The couple laughed, of course. Edwin seemed to have the power to make people laugh at the corniest of jokes.

"He gets it from George," Abby said.

"No he doesn't," George said. "He's way funnier. It's gotta be a mutation or something, because there's just no other explanation."

"Switched at birth?" Nora joked.

"I'd say that if I hadn't seen pictures of George's father from the forties and fifties," Abby said.

"This is true," Nora said. She'd seen the photo albums. Edwin looked eerily like the man.

Nora got so absorbed in watching the three kids seat people that she was startled by the dimming of the lights, which signaled the beginning of the show. When that happened, she couldn't help but hear the theme from the Muppet Show in her head. This was Edwin's fault, or, more accurately, George's fault since he was the one who brought home Muppet DVDs for Ed to watch ad infinitum. She had a passing mental image of Statler and Waldorf sitting at a balcony that, of course, the room didn't have.

The idea of the two crotchety old man puppets kept popping up in her brain, distracting her from what were probably some pretty good performances. She didn't stop hearing their cartoony old voices until Casey and Derek took the stage.

Part Two: Casey.

It hurt a little bit to realize that she wouldn't be allowed to hug Noel as he left the stage, especially since. He'd done so well and all she wanted to do was jump up and maul him the way she'd managed to do with Wendall and, to a lesser extent, Cori. To add to the awkwardness, they'd all been warned that any noise they made in this little stretch of hallway that Mrs. Zeldin set up as their backstage area could be heard. This meant very little to Casey and Derek, as they could sign to each other all they wanted, but the non-signers were reduced to mouthing words and pantomime. None of them were good at communicating in this way.

Meanwhile, Derek practically vibrated with nerves as he waited for their turn to go on. She nudged him.

"Quit it," she signed.

"Be happy I'm not throwing up," Derek signed. He had a point. Casey'd availed herself of some of Sam's antacid stash a few minutes before curtain. Maybe Derek-level performance anxiety was catching. Then again, she'd heard all kinds of stories about the most brilliant actors in the world puking before every performance. Maybe this level of fear was normal, even okay.

So maybe there was hope for them.

A couple of the kids on stage crew had to separate them to put on and test the body microphones they were wearing. Casey and Derek were the only ones who got to wear them, because there really wasn't time to teach Derek how to project his voice to the back of the theater. He spoke much better than he thought he did, but that would've been too much to worry about. For consistency, she got to wear one, too. At first it had made Casey feel special. At that moment, however, she worried about causing feedback, sweating enough to electrocute herself, or just plain falling down and breaking the thing. Mrs. Z. had warned them that the mics were expensive.

"No pressure," Derek signed, as she smoothed her top over the little belt with the battery pack and transmitter. Casey did her best to glare, but since that was the Derek-est thing he'd done all day, she couldn't get too mad.

"Bite me," she signed.

"Maybe later, if you're good," Derek signed back. He grinned at her reaction.

Mrs. Z. waved them over and Derek lost the little bit of color he'd regained.

The curtain came up over an empty living room, Casey, as Terri, stomped out from offstage, whipping around and signing angrily at Derek, (Jay) while trying to talk at the same time. She called him all the things that she usually called him in real life: pig, dog, jerk, ass, etc. Derek, against type, stood there calmly, refusing to join in on the name calling.

"Are you done?" he signed. An offstage actor voiced the part for him. The guy's voice wasn't a good match. The voice was too high, the accent too clipped, too actor-y—altogether not Derek-ish. Even if he could hear himself, there was no way he'd talk like that. Mrs. Z. had found him after Sam and Ralph both refused to do it.

"Not even close!" Casey said, clumsily signing it at the same time. This got their first laugh.

He sighed. She took just enough time to sigh back, mocking him before she started to rant again. "And don't you dare act all long-suffering," she said. "Not after what you pulled tonight!"

He gave her the eyebrow.

"So now, you're gonna pretend like you don't know what you did?"she asked.

"I know what I did," he signed.

"You let me make a fool of myself!" she said, signing again.

"Couldn't stop you," he signed. "You're so good at it." This got their second laugh.

"I would never let it happen to you," she said. "I hope you know that."

"It's all your fault," he signed. "I warned you, but you had to meet my parents and announce the engagement. I told you they were awful. You didn't believe me."

"I thought you were exaggerating," she said.

"I don't exaggerate," he signed.

"The hell you don't!" she said.

"Did I exaggerate about my parents?"

She paused."I'm just saying," she said, finally, "I had no reason to think that anyone could be as bad as you said."

"And you were wrong," he signed.

"_You_ were wrong," she said. "For not defending me."

"Doesn't matter," he signed. "Waste of energy."

"It would have mattered to me," she said. As they continued to argue, Casey had to make her signing more and more clumsy as Terri got more and more angry and frustrated. She would never think of herself as a graceful or fluent signer, but being bad on purpose was really hard, like deliberately singing off-key. Though talking and signing at the same time helped her to make more mistakes and mix up her word order even more than she usually did.

Really, the more she thought about it, it was a wonder that Derek understood a word of what she tried to sign to him.

The fight escalated until Derek finally signed, "Don't blame me. I knew they would hate you and I was right."

Then it was time to explode. Casey was a bit relieved that she got to put her hands down and just yell at him while he looked confused.

"I can't believe—" she sputtered. "You total—"

"You knew they would hate me?" she continued. "Why, because there's so much to _hate_?"

Here Jay was supposed to realize what he said, so Derek's face went through confusion, shock and incredible guilt in the space of a few seconds. How he did that was anybody's guess. Casey knew that _she_ couldn't do it.

He put a hand up to calm her down.

"What, you think you're gonna calm me down now?" Casey said. Derek shook his head, tried to get hold of her hands to get her to stop ranting.

"It's really good to know what you really think of me," she said, turning on her heel and heading toward the bedroom door. He tried to get there first and block her but she slid past him. She worried about skidding in her shoes or kicking him, but she got by him smoothly. And slammed the door in his face, locking it.

She heard a couple of gasps and an "Oooh?" from the audience and suppressed her own sigh of relief that it worked—that the door didn't swing the wrong way and the lock actually clicked into place this time. Derek did his thing, first jiggling the knob to get in, then banging on the door.

She wondered if he was thinking about all the stuff that could go wrong, too. Probably not, she decided. If anyone knew how to properly lose himself in the moment, it was Derek. At that moment, she was sure that he _was_ Jay and he was currently pacing his living room, thinking about what he could use to break the lock on the door. She still felt more like Casey than Terri.

Part Three: Derek.

As Mrs. Z. beckoned them over, Derek wondered if it was too late to convince her to go in another direction and give the damn part to Wendall.

It made little sense to ask himself what he'd been thinking when he'd tried out because he hadn't been thinking. He'd been chasing Casey. Not that he hadn't wanted the part once he was actually given the chance to audition. He just hadn't thought he'd had a chance in hell of getting one. Then he'd gotten the part, and well, he couldn't wuss out of it, could he?

_Why not_, he thought. _What's so bad about wussing out again?_

Casey more or less read his mind and grabbed his arm, pulling him along. He just followed her without thinking about it until they reached the stage and she had to let go. She started yelling at him and making big angry signs with that familiar look on her face—the one that said he'd better hope his reflexes were good because she was going to get him as soon as she can get rid of all the witnesses.

That was one of his favorite looks. It was all he could do to stop himself from smiling at it. Then he remembered his motivation: not making a fool of himself.

He crossed his arms and tried to look stoic and Sam-like in the face of angry!Casey. He'd decided a few weeks back that this character, Jay, was basically Sam. That meant that he had a much slower fuse than Derek did. He was mature, capable, and responsible. This was why they called it acting.

"It's really good to know what you really think of me," 'Terri' said. Terri was sort of an exaggerated version of Casey and the revisions they'd made to the script had only exaggerated the character more.

"No, listen," he tried to sign as she turned around and started walking away. She shook off every attempt he made to stop her. Part of him wondered what she'd do if he tried to grab her properly, taking her into his arms right at that moment. She'd probably kick him, he decided, and he didn't want any part of those shoes she had on.

In the struggle, he'd gotten a little too close to the door and when she slammed it, he'd had to move back a step to avoid getting hit in the face. He was pretty sure that he made some sort of unintentional noise, a grunt or something. He just hoped it wasn't too loud.

He stood and stared at the door, blinking at it in disbelief. Then he tried the handle and smacked the door in frustration.

_Don't call her Casey. Don't call her Casey_, he thought. There'd been a couple of rehearsals where he'd blown the whole thing by calling her by the wrong name.

"Terri," he said. Then, because he couldn't help it, he ran a hand through his hair, and turned slightly, and risked a peek at the audience. Just a quick look, to see if anyone was squinting at him or asking the person next to them what he'd just said. From what little he could see, nobody looked confused.

"Terri," he said again, really concentrating on the -r sound. He felt her kick the door. He reached into his pocket, pulling a fake credit card out of his wallet and trying it on the door. He ran it down the gap between the door and the jamb until it stuck, then snapped. He took one of the broken pieces and threw it onto the couch.

Then he turned and went looking around the room, going offstage for a second and coming back with a toolbox. In it was one of those screwdrivers with the interchangeable heads. He checked it quickly to make sure that the head was loose enough, knowing that it would look like he was actually tightening it. When he tried to use it on the door, he maneuvered the whole thing to look like he'd snapped it.

He felt another kick to the door, which he took as the signal to stop what he was doing. He, Casey, and Mrs. Z. had worked out all these cues beforehand, and Mrs. Z. stood in the wings on one side, and they'd gotten Tinker to cover the other side; both were ready to signal Derek if anything went wrong. He'd taught them the signs for "slow down," "stop," "too slow," and "go ahead." Mostly, he'd been getting the "go ahead" sign from them. This was good.

"Terri? Just open the door. I'm sorry," he said.

Part Four: Sam.

Sam leaned against a wall in the back. He, Ralph, Max, and Ed had a pretty good view.

Ralph was particularly into it, so was Edwin. Max kept drifting off, looking at one girl or another. That is, when he wasn't looking at Casey. If Sam asked him what the play was about, he was sure the kid would have no clue.

As Sam watched, Casey (Terri, he reminded himself) flitted around the little bedroom part of the stage, packing a little suitcase and ranting into a cell phone as Derek broke a screwdriver off in the lock.

"Typecasting," Edwin whispered and Sam stifled a laugh behind one fist.

"No, that's just Jay, trying to pick the lock," Casey (Terri, dammit) said. "Yes, I locked him out—stop it! I am _not_ being mean! I just don't want him to stop me from packing, is all." She kicked the door. "He wants to talk me down until I'm not mad at him anymore and that's just not gonna happen this time."

_Could this really be considered acting?_ Sam wondered.

Derek stared at the door, looking from the exhausted toolkit to the door and back again. He ran a hand through his hair, finally succeeding in getting some of it to move despite all the crap they'd put in it.

"Come on, Terri, open the door," he said. "Are you on the phone? Put down the phone and let me in."

"How does he even _do_ that?" she asked. "Shut up, I am _not_ always on the phone," she said, into the phone. The audience laughed. "Anyway, he can text faster than most people type, so I don't know who he's telling to—"

"Terri, please? Just open the door. I'm sorry."

"Shut, up, Jay," she said, as if he'd hear her. "I swear, if he thinks an 'I'm sorry' is gonna get me to open the door," she said, into the phone. "I _know_ he didn't hear that. I yell at the TV, too. What's your point? Nope, nuh-uh. I'm mad at him and I'm gonna stay mad. You didn't see what he was like tonight. He just _stood there_ and let his parents treat him like—like I don't know—the dog. They talked about him like he wasn't there. And that's when they weren't looking at me like I was an alien. It was like Dinner with the Dursleys—"

There was a little laugh at the Harry Potter reference.

"Terreeeee" Derek/Jay said. He leaned his head against the door.

Sam bit his lip and looked over at Ralph, who was rubbing at his eyes already.

"I don't even know how it turned into a fight," Casey said. "One minute I'm sitting there, biting my lip and watching the clock and then, next thing I know I'm yelling at them and he's dragging me out like I'm a crazy person and getting pissed at me for defending him and I'm getting pissed because he _didn't_ defend _me_ and now here we—"

"Are you really gonna make me do this out here?" Derek asked. He was on his knees by this time, and he turned to sit down with his back against the door. "Do you want me to beg forgiveness? Because I can do that. I'm sorry that you didn't listen to me when I told you about my parents. I'm sorry that I was right about that. I know how much you hate it when I'm right."

"Jay, you _ass_," 'Terri' said, giving the door another kick. Sam knew for a fact that Casey'd lobbied unsuccesfully to change Derek's character's name to something with two syllables, just so she could stretch it out. "Jay" just didn't have the same feel as "De-_rek._" Even "Jason" wouldn't feel right.

'Jay' grovelled some more: "Okay, I'm sorry I didn't defend you. You didn't need defending, though. Neither did I."

She aimed another kick.

"Please don't kick the door again," he said.

"Arrrgh!" she said. "Mindreading jackass!"

"C'mon, Terri," he said. He put a little too much emphasis on the -r sound. Sam made a mental note to let him know about that later on.

"Does he have to say my name like that?" she said. She sat down on the edge of the little bed, putting her head in her free hand.

"Shut up," she said into the phone. "I'm not melting. I'm_ not_."

Edwin nudged Sam, "Look at her melt," he signed, first pointing at her and then pulling both hands down from in front of his face and rubbing his fingers as if they were sticky. Sam nodded.

Onstage, Jay was asking Terri to please open the door so he could see her and talk to her.

"Talk to me. Please?" he said. He paused to take a breath before the "please." This was enough to get a reaction from the audience. There were sniffles, and Sam thought he heard a little sob.

_That's Nora,_ he thought. _Or Abby._ It was a mother at any rate. His money was on Nora.

Casey/Terri took a deep breath of her own, shuddering a little at the end. "I mean, I love him," she said. "But God do I want to kick his ass, sometimes."

There was a laugh, followed by a pause.

"He's being really quiet out there," she said. "Why you gotta say stuff like that? He didn't leave. I would've heard him leave." She got up and walked over to the door and opened it. Derek/Jay who'd been leaning with his back against the door, turned quickly as it opened and was on his feet right away.

They stared at each other.

"I gotta go," she said, into the phone, clicking it off and tossing it back onto the bed.

The next thing that happened, Sam knew, was not in the original script. He'd actually been disappointed to hear that it wasn't in the script. And, as someone who knew Derek as well as he did, he really should have seen this coming.

Ralph catcalled. Edwin whooped and this caused a chain reaction of whoops and applause. And camera flashes.

Because Derek put one hand on either side of Casey's face, pulled her toward him and kissed her.


	49. Chapter 49

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

A/N: Before I forget, again (please forgive me,) the idea about the locker in Ch.46-47 was inspired by something said by Erishkigalgirl. Wasn't specific in the earlier shout-out to her because I didn't want to give the cliffhanger away, but I didn't want to let any more time go by without giving her her due. And on that note...

Chapter Forty-Nine.

Part One: Casey.

Casey could think of a few things that were more awkward than getting unexpectedly kissed in front of a large group of people, but the kiss was still pretty darn awkward. Her nose was momentarily smushed and she made a weird "erph" noise when Derek's lips connected to hers.

To make matters worse, his tongue flicked over her mouth. Because he knew that she couldn't exactly hit him in front of all those people.

The curtain came down and his arms tightened around her so that she couldn't wiggle away and/or shove him. Technically, she realized, she still could have kicked him, but by the time that occurred to her, the impulse had passed. She reached behind her to shut off the body microphone she had on. Derek did the same, going so far as to open his shirt to take the belt and transmitter off. As they did this, they were gently shooed off the stage and Mrs. Z. came out and announced that it was time for intermission. As she came back behind the curtain, Casey stiffened like she was about to be led before a firing squad.

Mrs. Z reached them in the wings and still Casey found herself unable to run. Derek grinned like an idiot, which struck Casey as odd, because he usually had more survival instinct than that.

"You two," Mrs. Z said. Casey cringed, waiting for Mrs. Z to let her have it. "You were amazing!"

"Huh?" Casey said. Then there was hugging.

Mrs. Z signed "Amazing" a couple of times for emphasis. "Did I get that right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Derek said. He looked down for a second, then up at her. "Thanks."

"Oh, _now_ he gets shy" Casey said.

"Huh?" Derek asked. She repeated herself.

"I am not," he said, looking a little red.

"Of course, you know that the kiss has to stay in the show, now," Mrs. Z. said.

"The things we do for art," Derek said. Casey glared; Derek grinned at her.

Mrs. Z. laughed, but then tapped Derek's shoulder. "You got lucky, Derek," she said. "Don't push it." Derek gave her his best innocent "whatever do you mean?" face. She rolled her eyes, patted his shoulder and took off.

They had been headed for their little makeshift green room, but Casey stopped in the hallway, so Derek took a deep breath and steeled himself for the onslaught.

Sometimes, she wished she weren't so predictable.

"De-rek," she said, trying to keep her voice down so that everyone in the nearby classroom wouldn't hear.

The smile came back to his face.

"What the hell?" she signed. "Why did you kiss me in front of all those people?" That was an unfortunate choice of words and she started to backtrack.

"I mean," she said. "I wasn't ready— and you're lucky Mrs. Z. didn't hand you your butt just now."

"I was in the moment," Derek signed. "Did you just say 'Hand me my butt?'"

"Don't change the subject," she said. "What about your PDA rule?"

Derek flapped a dismissive hand at the PDA rule. "So you really need to ask why I kissed you?"

"Um...yes?"

Derek grinned at her again.

"The show needed a kiss," he signed, tapping his index finger to signify that that was the first reason. Then, he tapped his middle finger. "I felt like kissing you."

"Everyone will treat you like crap now," Casey signed. "Like they treat me."

He pointed to her and tapped his ring finger. "That's number three."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Casey put a hand across her eyes, rubbing them, like she felt a headache coming on. He took her wrist and gently pulled her hand away from her face.

"Do I really need to tell you?" he asked. She sighed. She guessed she understood.

"I figure that this will go one of two ways," Derek said, tapping the index finger again, this time as he spoke. "Either people lay off of you now, or I get what you get." He shrugged.

"You make it sound so easy," Casey said.

"It is," Derek said. He squinted at her. "You're not gonna cry are you?"

"Uh-huh," Casey said, nodding.

He groaned, but then pulled her close and kissed her again.

Part Two: George.

George shook his head. This was about all he could do after the curtain came down and the lights came up. Nora was wiping her eyes. Abby sighed.

"Your son," Abby said.

"_Your_ son," George said.

"I don't like where this is going," Nora said.

"_Nora's_ son," Abby said.

"Noo," Nora said. "I have enough trouble with the_ girl_."

"Maybe the Schleppers'll take him?" George said, turning to Steven Schlepper in the seat in front of Nora.

"Nope," Steven said, turning around. "He's all yours."

"We already have a Shawn." Sharon Schlepper said. She nodded toward the line forming at the refreshment counter. Shawn was leaning against the wall, talking to a girl, his hand brushing the hair out of her eyes. The kid was trouble.

"Say no more," George said.

"And then there's this one to deal with," Steven said, gesturing to Sheldon, who had both arms wrapped around Emily's waist as they both talked to someone or other.

"Hey!" Sheldon said, turning around as much as he could without letting go of his girlfriend.

"You know you're my favorite," Steven said. Sheldon smirked.

"Uh-huh," Sheldon said.

"Top three, anyway," Steven said.

"That's what_ my_ Mom says," Emily said.

"Your Mom says you're top three?" Sheldon said. "Is there a third kid I don't know about?"

"Well, ya know, the cat," Emily joked.

"Cats," George said. "They gotta be easier than kids."

"Marti thinks she's a cat," Nora reminded him.

"And Derek probably thinks he caught the canary," Abby said, causing Nora to crack up.

"Seems to have gone over pretty well with the audience," Nora said. "Can't even tell that the kiss was an adlib." It was true. There was most likely a standing ovation in both kids' futures.

"It was?" Sharon asked.

"Fraid so," Nora said. Neither Emily nor Sheldon looked surprised.

"It was a brilliant performance," Sharon said. "I, for one, would be really proud to have a kid on the stage. Hint, _hint_."

Shawna Schlepper picked that moment to come back to her seat, soda in hand, and stuffing change back into her purse.

"Yeah, Sheldon," Shawna said. "Hint, hint."

"You too," Sharon said.

"Nuh-uh," Shawna said.

"I get stagefright," Sheldon said. Emily found herself unable to keep a straight face. Shawna laughed openly.

"You do not," Emily said.

"E tu Squirrel?" he said.

"I'm just saying," she said. "You love the stage. You would marry the stage if you could."

"How could you say such a thing, Squir—" Sheldon tried to say. Emily put her hand over his mouth.

"And yet we're not here watching _you_ in a play," Sharon said. "_Or_ you," she poked Shawna. "Or your brother." As he watched Sheldon look at his mother exasperatedly, George decided that he could learn a thing or two from Sharon. Messing with his kids was one of George's hobbies, but Sharon Schlepper was in another league. She'd raised it to an art form.

"I don't have Derek's gift for improv," Sheldon said.

"_That_ was awesome," Shawna said. "Punk rock. Especially after this past week with all the crap Casey's been catching." She took a sip of her cola, oblivious to her little brother's bugging eyes. Because he thought that Shawna'd just revealed a state secret.

"Oh please," she told Sheldon. "You _know_ Lassiter called their house, right, Mr. and Mrs. V.?"

"Yeah," Nora said. George nodded. "They told us all about the locker." They'd called Nora at work, and it had, according to her, taken two co-workers to talk her out of doing a Momma Bear and rushing right over to the high school. After that, there had been a frantic call to George, asking him what they could do.

"I got nothing," George had said. Nora had been thinking of drastic measures—lawsuits, private schools, armed guards, a beheading or two. But George talked her into taking a little time to think.

Two days later, they were still thinking.

"Right," Sheldon said. "The locker."

"Was there more than that?" Nora asked.

Sheldon pulled off the innocent "I don't know what you're talking about" look like he was born to do it. Who said he didn't know how to improv?

"Emily?" Nora asked. Emily bit her lip.

_Here we go again,_ George thought, putting his hand on Nora's.

"Nobody's in trouble and we didn't hear it from you," George said.

Emily, after further reassurance that nobody'd get in trouble for this, told them about the harassment that Casey'd been facing in addition to the vandalism of her locker.

"Casey has a lot of friends, though, you know?" Emily said.

"We know," Nora said.

"And we're all looking out for her," Emily said, anxiously, sensing Nora's anger. "Most people thought that the locker thing was disgusting, and Mr. Lassiter even let her switch lockers with someone today. And you know Derek; he's getting all Papa Bear..."

"So this big, public kiss, would you consider it Derek's way of giving the student body the middle finger?" Abby asked.

"Sounds like," George said.

"_Your_ son," Abby told George, grinning. Nora showed signs of getting all misty again.

"Wow," Sheldon said. "That actually _does_ sound kinda punk rock."

"You dork," Shawna said.

"Be nice to your brother," Steven said.

"Only _we_ get to torture him," Sharon said, reaching up and rubbing a little of what was probably Emily's lip gloss off of his cheek. "You need a shave."

"Know what?" Sheldon said, wiggling out of his mother's grasp. "I could really go for a root beer. Can I bring anyone else anything?" His eyes said, "say no!" so everyone shook their heads and he scurried off with Emily. He got about ten feet before he banged his shin on a folding chair, overturning it and making a hell of a lot of noise. George hissed in sympathy as a handful of kids laughed, Shawn gave his little brother the slow clap and Sheldon's face purpled. Emily helped him fix the chairs and slid her arms around him, and only then was he able to laugh it off.

"Well," Steven said. "The ride home's gonna be fun."

"We can bribe Shawna to sit between them," Sharon said. "So they can't kill each other."

Shawna turned to George. "You're a lawyer, right Mr. Venturi?"

"Yep," George said.

"You can't divorce us," Steven said. "Stop trying."

"Worth a shot," Shawna joked, going back to her purse. Sharon reached up and tucked her daughter's hair behind her ear.

Part Three: Derek.

Truth be told, Derek had sort of a rush going. A good part of the rush came from the kiss on stage, (and the couple of kisses that followed soon after). Derek liked to think that he was cool, but he still got the shakes after grabbing Casey and planting one on her in public. One would think that most people had the decency to pretend that they didn't notice this.

Derek found out, however, that teenage girls could not be considered "most people." Backstage, hands kept touching him, on his shoulders, his face, wherever. Somehow he'd gone from a normal guy to a puppy in the last ten minutes. To make matters worse, all the girls were doing the distorted baby talk mouth so he couldn't read their lips at all. Besides Casey, there were really only four girls, but it really felt like they'd grown some extra arms. He did what he could to get away and then, like a cat who plunks down next to the one cat hater in the room, he sat down next to Noel.

Noel nodded at him politely then went back to wiggling the pop-top on his soda can. A minute or so later, out of the corner of his eye, Derek noticed that Noel's shoulders shook just a little. Being Derek, he had to look up and see what the hell was funny.

"What?" Derek asked. Noel shook his head. Derek noticed that Noel had a little bit of red in the corner of his mouth, moving onto his cheek. It was the color of a cranberry juice stain or something. But Derek was pretty sure that it wasn't cranberry juice.

"You have lipstick, by the way," Derek said, rubbing a thumb against the side of his own mouth to demonstrate. This made Noel laugh harder. Derek looked at him in confusion until Noel got up and found a little mirror and held it up to Derek's own face, which was almost cartoonishly covered in lip marks. Derek's own mouth was a little bit pinker than he was comfortable with, but that was the color Casey had on. That didn't explain the big vampire red mark on his forehead and the darker pink one on his cheek.

"Son of a—" Derek said, reaching for a baby wipe. The mark on his cheek came off easily, along with all of that hateful makeup he had on. His mouth came mostly clean too, but the forehead one really began to give him trouble. There were going to be pictures of this. Edwin alone would be able to snap off a few before Derek could stop him. This could not be withstood. He scrubbed a little harder at it until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Try one of these," Casey said, handing him a little jar with makeup remover pads. It did the trick. He was about to show his gratitude when he realized that she'd put more lipstick on. This stopped him for a second. _What the hell_, he thought, closing the distance between them. He could always use another of those thingees to take the new batch of pink off of his mouth.

She pulled away and when he opened his eyes in confusion, she nodded toward Noel who was inching away.

_Oops_, Derek thought. Casey blocked Noel's path, asked to talk to him. Noel tried to act like none of this was any big deal, but to Casey _everything_ was a big deal, so Noel was stuck.

"I'll just get out of your hair," Derek said.

"No," Casey said, turning to him. "Stay...please?" Derek sighed as she grabbed his arm, pulling him over to a spot right next to Noel so he could see everything that was going on. He had a little bit of trouble reading her lips because of her newly smeared mouth. All he kept thinking about was how he wanted to smear it further, but he did manage to catch the gist of what she was saying. The word "sorry" came up a lot. She never wanted to hurt him, etc.

Finally, Noel put his hand on Casey's arm, stopping the monologue.

"Casey," he said, "I'm not mad at you." He said it in a "what part of that don't you understand" way, something that usually ticked Derek off no end, but since it was for Casey's benefit, and not his, he let it slide.

"But you should be mad," Casey said. Derek shook his head. Casey told store clerks when they gave her too much change, too.

"Don't you have enough to deal with?" Noel asked. "Don't worry about me."

"You're important," she said.

"I'm telling you," Noel said. "I'm not mad. I can't stay mad at you, (mumble mumble) people (mumble) your locker and tripping you and stuff."

"Takes all the fun out of it doesn't it?" Derek asked. Casey whacked his arm.

"Whose side are you on?" she asked.

"You have to ask?" Derek said, grinning. Casey glared at him and turned back to Noel.

"I wouldn't say it was fun," Noel said, "But yeah, I couldn't get really pissed off."

"So we can be friends?" Casey asked, looking like there was very little keeping her from jumping up and down and dancing around the room. Bouncing, at the very least, was imminent.

Noel, for his part, looked like she'd asked him if she could do scientific experiments on him.

"Yeah, okay," he said, because people found it hard to say no to Casey. Casey jumped up and mauled him. Derek could see Noel's arms close around her stiffly, patting her twice before she let go of him. Noel shook his head as Casey flitted off to fix her makeup for the umpteenth time, but then Derek caught his eye.

_My turn_, Derek thought. _Shit._ "We cool?" he asked, holding out a hand to shake. Noel cocked his head to one side to make sure that Derek didn't have anything concealed in his palm. Derek got that a lot, even though he'd passed his joybuzzer (passed down to him from his father) on to Edwin.

Then Noel shook his hand.

"We're cool," Noel said. "Since I don't think you have long to live." Derek laughed.

"I've gotten my ass kicked before," Derek said. "I can handle myself. You remember Freshman Friday."

"Yeah," Noel said. The first week of grade nine, Derek had briefly been singled out as an easy target. Sam and Ralph had had his back, of course, but they'd also been lowly, wimpy niners. It had taken just one incident with a Grade Twelve whose reflexes hadn't been as good as Derek's to put a stop to it, though. The guy had been really big and not that bright and that combination had allowed the guy to slip while chasing Derek and go sliding into some lockers that Derek had just barely avoided slamming into himself. Of course the rumor mill had turned it into some kind of David and Goliath thing that had Derek breaking the guy's nose himself. People stayed away from him after that. Derek was bigger now (as were Sam and Ralph), and his reflexes hadn't changed. He didn't anticipate any physical fights, but he thought he could be ready if he had to be.

Intermission was ending in another couple of minutes which meant that Derek had just enough time to run to the bathroom and back before the last play of the night started up. When it did, Derek and Casey stood in the wings. Casey watched the show. Derek watched Casey. He must've been getting kind of tired because he didn't notice the curtain coming down. Casey needed to point out the fact that they had to get ready for the curtain call. They had to do this in some pretty low light. Casey took him by the hand and both followed the bits of glow in the dark masking tape to find their way across the stage. Then, in rapid succession, the lights went on, the curtain went up and Derek found it impossible to get his bearings for a second because the room became thumping, camera flashing, hand waving chaos.

Thankfully he had it together when the time came for him and Casey to take their bows. Casey did this graceful little curtsy thing. They'd practiced this, but Derek wasn't feeling too graceful. He took a clumsy bow and covered it with the cheekiest grin he could muster. He was going for a "yes, I'm awesome, but I'm being modest right now" sort of thing, and based on the look Casey gave him as she shook her head, he'd managed it. Then people stood up. Derek turned to Casey, who was doing the applause sign, trying to get the hearing people in the back to do it. _Dork_, he thought, but his face felt a little hot and it was hard to stop grinning. He pulled her close and would've gone for another kiss if she'd let him. Later on, he got to see video of Casey wiggling away from him. It looked like they'd planned it and the audience had eaten it up. Finally, she grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him back a few feet so that the next group could bow and stuff.

"I am so hungry," he signed to Casey when the curtain came down the second time. "You?"

"Is that all you think about?" Casey asked.

"No," Derek said. "It might be number two on the list, though." She didn't ask what number one was. If she had, he'd have been really disappointed in her.

Part Four: Noel.

_One show down, two to go_, Noel thought. If he'd been keeping a list of High School Stuff, he could check School Play off of it and move on to Crappy Summer Job or Prom Date Scramble.

Okay, so maybe it had been sorta fun, he admitted to himself. It had helped him discover some powers of persuasion that he hadn't known about. First of all, everyone in the show had to fill a ticket and ad space quota. His parents had been good for a couple of tickets each, for Saturday and Sunday nights, and his one local Aunt had been good for a Sunday ticket as well, but that still left five tickets and forty dollars of ads he needed to deal with. Most of his friends had already bought tickets from other people by the time he'd gotten to them. Just his luck: his circle of friends was also tight with everyone else in the damn drama club. He'd gotten Linda to buy one, and his friend Jerry to buy two, but the last two lousy tickets proved impossible to get rid of. Until a couple of days ago, when inspiration hit. By then, he'd gotten an auto body shop to buy a quarter page ad, so that was taken care of, but he decided that maybe the show needed some more advertising and that he could use some coffee.

Wednesday night.

He went into Smelly Nelly's, doing his best to look as professional and businesslike as any almost sixteen year old in beat-up jeans and a hoodie could. It was about half an hour before they closed and it wasn't too busy. The cute waitress, Sally, her name was, hung out at the counter and smiled at him when he came in.

"So," she said. "Did you eat those vegetables after you left here the other day?"

"Of _course_," Noel said, pretending to hide some crossed fingers behind his back.

"Hmm," she said, smirking. "So can I put you down for a wheatgrass and spinach smoothie?"

"I'm actually allergic to spinach," Noel lied. "Or at least that's what I tell my parents; if I come home with the stuff in my teeth, my cover will be blown, so how bout a large coffee instead?" She laughed.

"Light and sweet?" she guessed.

"Regular," he said. When, she handed it over, he said, "I had another reason for coming in."

"Do ya, now?"

"I do indeed," he said. "I _was_ gonna ask if I could post this flyer..." He pulled an ad for the play out of his messenger bag. "But it looks like someone beat me to it." She looked it over.

"Yeah, there's one on the bulletin board, but maybe we could use one more for the window? Or the register," she said, taking it. "So. One Act Festival, huh? Are you in any of these?"

"Yeah," he sighed, apologetically, in case she felt like laughing at him.

"Really? Which one?" She actually seemed interested. He leaned over the counter slightly and pointed to the title of the show he was in, giving her a quick rundown of the plot.

"Sounds like fun," she said.

"Really?"

"You don't think so?" she asked. "You must've gotten into it for a reason."

There were a couple of reasons. One of them might have been a dare; another might have been extreme boredom. Plus, there was always the matter of drama club girls.

"Seemed like something to try," he told her, shrugging. A couple came up to the counter to pay their check, so Sally excused herself to cash them out for a minute or so.

"Would you do it again?" she asked, when she got back.

"I dunno," he said.

"I wish I'd been able to do _Grease_ at my school this year," Sally said. "But I could either try out for that or save up for a car, so, here I am."

He didn't even bother to ask who she would have played.

"Grade Nine, I played Adelaide in _Guys and Dolls_," she said. "And last year, I played Eponine in _Les Mis_."

"Sounds like your school has a bigger theater budget than ours," Noel said.

"And we have lots of car washes and stuff," Sally said.

"I wouldn't have taken you for a—"

"Drama geek?"

"I wasn't gonna say—"

"You so were," Sally said, laughing. "But I am so it's okay."

"But you seem so..._calm_."

"As opposed to what?" As if she didn't know what he was going to say.

"The rest of the drama geeks I know?" Noel said, thinking of one in particular. Sally considered that for a second, nibbling on the end of her pen, leaning on the counter. In the dim light of the restaurant, Noel couldn't quite tell whether her eyes were blue or green. He really wanted to know which it was, but would have felt like a dork for asking.

"Point taken," she said. The one remaining customer, besides Noel, wanted a quick refill on his pop. She got it for him and printed out his check. Then she asked Noel if he wanted anything else before she shut the register down.

"I'm good," he said, cashing out. "Guess I should be going."

"What's your hurry?" she said. "You haven't sold me my ticket yet."

"You really wanna go slumming?"

"You have so little confidence in your show?" she teased.

"After all this _Les Mis_ and _Guys and Dolls_ talk?" Noel asked. "Yeah, a little bit."

"And yet you expect a perfectly respectable establishment like this one to shill for you anyway."

"I think our flyer'll look really good next to that pro wrestling ad," Noel said, pointing at one of the more garish posters in the window off to the side.

"Maybe it would stand out more next to the misspelled tutoring service one," Sally said. She made a little frame out of her two hands, and leaned against the counter. She smelled a tiny bit like fried diner food, but also like some powdery flowery thing. He would've been an idiot not to lean a little closer.

"Whatever you think is best" he said.

"About that ticket..."

"You really want one?" Noel asked. "Don't toy with me, 'cause you have no idea how hard it's been to unload the things."

"How much?"

"Five."

He held the ticket out as she dug in her pockets for the cash.

"Do you have any more?" she asked.

"Bringing a friend?" he asked. "A boyfriend perhaps?" He said it lightly, and kept his voice from cracking, but probably came off really obvious anyway.

"Boyfriend? No," she said, smiling at him like she knew what he was thinking. "No boyfriend."

He nodded noncommittally, afraid of making a fool of himself. Or more of a fool of himself.

Friday Night.

Everybody, having taken their assorted bows and washed the last of the makeup off their faces, were starting to file out into the crowd. Noel, sure that he was about to get endless crap from the few friends who'd bothered to show, tried to put it off for a little while.

His stomach eventually helped make the decision to go into the gym. First of all there was the lingering smell of popcorn out there, and he would get none of the leftovers if he kept hovering in the hallway outside the boys' bathroom. So he went out into the crowd.

He wasn't expecting too many of his people so he wasted little time in seeking out the ones he knew would be there. It didn't take him too long to find Sally, or, more accurately, for Sally to find him.

"There you are," she said. "I was starting to think you snuck out the back door."

"Who me?" Even though he totally would have had she not been there. There really was no one else to hang with. His parents were some sort of work function at his Mom's job. Sheldon was there but Emily was practically in his lap, so anything Noel could possibly say to the guy would sail right over his head. He had a feeling that Sheldon wouldn't even remember him being there. Then there was Tink, who might still be busy sticking pins in his Derek doll (Noel didn't like to admit that he knew the feeling but he did).

So Noel had no reason to do anything but what he was doing at that moment.

"So" Sally said.

"So?" Noel asked. He was pretty sure that he was supposed to say something, or do something, but damned if he could remember what it was. Then, it came to him. "Thanks for coming."

"I'm glad I came," Sally said.

"Even though it wasn't a musical?" Noel asked.

"Can't have it all," Sally shrugged. "You were hilarious,though."

Noel went silent and blinked a couple of times."It wasn't a comedy," he deadpanned.

Sally didn't miss a beat. "Oh," she said. "Well...In that case, I really like that _shirt_ you have on. Brings out your eyes."

Noel chuckled. "Good one."

"I thought so," Sally said. "Sure you haven't done this before? You're a natural."

"Positive," Noel said. He leaned in conspiratorially and got another whiff of perfume from her, whispered in her ear."Unless you count what I've had to do a couple times to get out of detention."

She laughed, put her hand on his arm. He couldn't stop his eyes from flicking down to look at her hand, which in turn made her take it off.

"Hey!" he said, grabbing her hand and putting it where it had been. "I didn't say stop." She cracked up, which was good because for a split second there, he was afraid that that had been a creepy move.

"You like that do you?" Sally moved her hand up and down his arm. His eyes rolled back in his head, making her laugh harder.

"Oh!" Sally said, breaking the spell. She reached out to someone who'd been passing by, tapping their arm. It turned out to be Casey, who was (surprise, surprise) flanked by Derek. "Oh my gosh," Sally said. "You guys were so amazing!"

Next thing Noel knew, Casey and Sally were chattering away, even though they'd just met, and Derek was looking from one to the other in confusion, probably because they talked at the speed of a couple of meth-addled chipmunks. In a way, Derek was pretty lucky that he wasn't hearing any of this because things were getting very high-pitched. And even Noel was only picking up one word in five. A latte here, a dumbass there. Some bacon. Derek had started to drift, but came back to earth right quick.

"Bacon?" he asked. The three of them laughed.

"One of his favorite words," Casey explained, signing at the same time, splaying one hand and touching both sides of her chin with one finger, then tapping thumb and forefinger of one hand into the forefinger of the other. "Sorry Derek, we got a little carried away with the girl talk."

Derek shrugged, put his arm around her. "As long as you keep me in the loop for all food talk." She leaned in and touched her forehead to his, then pulled away far enough to sign something else, tapping her mouth, then putting her palm over her other fist.

Noel, who knew only the signs that everybody'd been taught during rehearsals and stuff, wondered what the hell she'd said. _ You complete me_, he thought, trying not to roll his eyes.

No matter what he'd said to the contrary, the sight of Derek and Casey being all gooey still really cheesed him off, but if he were honest about that, it would make him one more bad guy among many. So he stood there and smiled, and lied. He figured he'd have to get over it sooner or later.

If only they'd cut back on the signing back and forth to each other. Something about the way they did that sometimes. It was worse than watching him stick his tongue down her throat. But thankfully, Casey excused the both of them and she and Derek took off to get swallowed up by their family.

"They're so cute," Sally squealed. Noel looked at her in horror. "What?" she said. "They _are_. How long have they been together?"

Noel shrugged. "Not that long," he said.

"Really?" she said. "Look at the way he's looking at her."

Noel began to chew on the inside of his cheek.

"Okay," Sally said. "Time to change the subject. I can take a hint."

"I didn't say anything," he said.

"Your face did," she said. "So. Subject change. Hungry?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Just so happens I know a little out of the way place where I might get an employee discount," she said.

"Do ya really?"

"Yep," she said. "It's private, quiet..." She played with his shirt collar. "Free of paparazzi."

He laughed, but then Shawn Schlepper's camera went off in his face.

Part Five: Ralph.

The first thing that happened after the lights went all the way up was that Derek's Mom got all huggy and went after Sam, Ralph and Edwin. Then Casey's Mom did the same. Ralph needed a few minutes to recover from that, especially when she kissed him on the cheek.

What was weirder was that people other than Ralph's parents and Grandma thought that he was "a nice young man." Who'd a thunk? People were saying the same stuff to Sam and Edwin, too. Ed ate it up, even when his Mom cried a little, (Ed's Dad had to kind of drag him away so they could go home) but Sam was_ purple_.

It was always fun when Sam turned purple.

Derek did his best to make Sam purpler, laying it on thick with some old ladies that had only just stopped with the compliments.

"It's true," Derek signed. "Both of them." He pointed at Sam and Ralph. "Best friends I ever had."

Casey put her hand over her heart. Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

"Of course," one of the old ladies signed. She was pretty much making the same face Casey was.

"I wouldn't be here without them," Derek signed, looking serious. Casey looked like she'd cry in a second.

"And they're paying for pizza," Derek finished, smirking. Sam elbowed him in the ribs and the old ladies laughed, patting him on the arm and starting to make their way out to the exit.

Casey stared at Derek for a while. He looked back at her and signed "what?" and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Such a liar," she signed.

"Who me?" Derek signed. "I thought we just had a moment. You keep telling me to express my feelings and other girly shit like that." Sam cuffed the back of his head.

"Ow," Derek said. "I think that's worth some calamari."

"Go to hell," Sam said.

"I was thinking Peppito's," Derek said.

Later, the four of them walked across the parking lot, toward the Prince. Derek and Sam walked ahead of Casey and Ralph, talking all kinds of trash while Derek tried to remember where he parked.

"He really meant it, you know," Casey said to Ralph.

"Yeah, I know," Ralph said. "Dude's serious about his calamaris."

"Ralphie."

"I mean, I get it. Calamaris are important," Ralph said. "With the chocolate chips. I don't like the ones with the dried green stuff in em. Why do ya think they make those?"

Casey stopped where she was and folded her arms across her chest.

"Those are cannoli," she said.

"Really? So what's calamaris then?"

"Squid," she said. "You had it last week. I was there."

"Sam told me it was chicken. I'm so gonna kick his ass later."

"Can we focus?" Casey had to remind him what they were talking about to get back on track. While she was at it, she added stuff about how she was afraid Derek was gonna get beat up or something because he kissed her and proved that all the talk about them was true. Like people didn't know that already.

Casey was a girl, and didn't get that guys didn't have to talk about stuff like this. He tried to explain that they only did so when they were drunk, or tired or something. Like Sam when he stayed up all night studying for midterms and finals, would be all "I _love_ you guys," right before he crashed. This was what Derek was doing. He was all giddy and stupid because of all that happened, what with the kissing and the attention and stuff. Sam and Ralph knew that Derek wasn't really kidding around. They _were_ his best friends, but they didn't need him to say it, and would pretend that he'd never said anything when he came to his senses later. It was what friends did. But there Casey was, trying to pretend like it was some big deal or something.

"I am never gonna understand you guys," Casey said, shaking her head.

"Well, maybe you could ask Sam later," Ralph said. "He knows how to explain stuff. He got me to understand square roots. For a minute or so."

Casey kept looking at him like he had an extra head. People did that.

"What're we gonna do?" Casey asked.

"I thought we were going to Peppito's?" Ralph teased. "But we need to get moving before they drive off without us."


	50. Chapter 50

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Fifty.

Part One: Edwin.

Edwin and Lizzie sat on the floor of the games closet. Edwin fiddled with what was either gum or modeling clay stuck in the rug and enjoyed a little bit of relative peace and quiet.

"Wonder when Casey and Derek are gonna get home," Lizzie said, almost ruining it. It was eleven thirty already. Edwin snorted, like they should stay away a while.

He loved his brother, thought there was nobody cooler in the world, except maybe Neil Gaiman, but it seemed like whenever Derek did something cool, Edwin had to really fight the urge to copy him. All previous attempts to be Derek had failed up to that point, so Edwin didn't know why the urge was still so strong. This was not something he liked about himself.

At that moment, for example, he wished that he'd gone out for the middle school play, even though that year's production was about Parliament and even _he _couldn't make it funny. Even though he swore he'd never do another stupid play after that time he'd had to play a germ in a pageant about disease prevention.

The thought of the booger green sweats he'd been forced to wear as a costume reminded him what a horrible idea it would be to do another play. If only they had let him be the Nose at least; things would have been different.

"Ever want to do a play?" he asked Lizzie.

"Nah," Lizzie said. "I'm not into stuff like that. Standing in front of people. Wearing a dorky costume."

"Snot green sweats, for example," she continued. Edwin did his best to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Like _you_ wore in grade five," she said, grinning.

"Did not."

"Your Dad has video," she said.

"So he _did _make another copy!" Edwin said. "I thought I trashed em all!" Lizzie laughed.

"You were funny," she said. "Why be all ashamed?"

Edwin raised an eyebrow.

"Well, okay," Lizzie said. "But it's not like you're the only one. There's all kinds of pictures of Casey in dorky costumes. Like the cow?"

Edwin giggled. That picture never failed to make his day.

"And what about Derek?"

"Nothing," Edwin said.

"Nothing?"

"Not even a naked baby picture," Edwin said. "I think he burned em all or something." Derek was the firstborn, so there were millions of pictures of him, but they were all _perfect_. There were nowhere near as many shots of Edwin, but a distressing number of them seem to have been taken mid-sneeze or on really humid days, when his hair decided that it was the boss of him.

"It really bugs me," he said.

"Why?"

"Why?" he asked, incredulously. "What do you mean, why? He's just so..."

"What," Lizzie said, "Cool?"

"You gonna say that it doesn't bug you when Casey out-cools you?"

Lizzie pulled a face. "Casey?" she asked. "Out-cool _me_?"

Edwin laughed.

"A little," Lizzie said, being serious. "I can't dance and I have freckles—"

"I _like_ freckles," Edwin said, immediately wondering why he'd say something like that out loud.

"Okay," Lizzie said, looking at him funny.

"But Casey can't kick a soccer ball for crap," Edwin said, trying to make her forget what he'd just said.

"No, she really can't," Lizzie said. "She can't throw either. _And_ she can't break a board with her feet. So it doesn't make sense to compare myself to her."

That should have made Edwin feel better.

"You can do all kinds of things Derek can't," Lizzie said, trying to be reassuring.

"Like what?" Edwin asked. Lizzie didn't say anything, just stared him down and waited for his brain to kick back in.

"Oh," Edwin said. "Okay, so I can hear better than him. That's the only thing."

"Piano?"

"Still related to the one thing," Edwin said.

"And you said yourself that you're a great dancer."

"Ahem," Edwin said.

"Nuh-uh," Lizzie said. "That's not exactly the same thing. There's Deaf dancers all over the place. Casey's got the Internet printouts to prove it. But Derek's too much of a wuss to dance with her. You're not. So there."

"Meh," Edwin said.

"And doesn't he make you check his papers for grammar?" Lizzie asked.

"So?"

"You're not even thirteen and you're checking his high school papers for him. And he pays you to do it," Lizzie said.

"He's just paranoid," Edwin said. Once in a great while, when he wrote essays, Derek did things like leave out words or use the wrong form of a word because he still got English mixed up with ASL in his head. Their Mom had worked with Derek on his English a lot when he was little, so it didn't happen too often, but when it did, his teachers seemed to act like it was the end of the world. Anyone would be paranoid.

"So?" Lizzie said. "You're still better than he is at stuff like that, and he admits it."

"I gots the mad grammar skillz," Edwin deadpanned. Lizzie laughed.

They heard the front door open and shut downstairs. That had to be Derek. Anyone else would have tried to stop it from clattering. Then there was the sound of shushing which, Edwin was sure did absolutely no good. _That_ had to be Casey.

Suddenly Edwin wondered why he'd spent so much time wanting to be like such a doofus. They were both doofuses. Here, he asked himself if the plural of doofus was doofuses or doofi. He looked at Lizzie and she shook her head, thinking the same thing—that they had total doofi as their rolemodels.

Part Two: Paul.

Paul waited for Casey to come bursting into his office, the way she did when she was upset. At random moments, especially when he was drinking his coffee, he'd brace himself and look towards the door, as if it would burst open at any time. It was sort of like a Casey drill.

Admittedly, Paul tended to get a little too wrapped up in the lives of his students. It wasn't just Casey. There had been a kid a couple of years before who'd been working two jobs and going to school, and halfway through the semester, Paul got the idea that he'd been living on the streets. Paul had lost all kinds of sleep over him. Then there had been the girl who'd gone through treatment for leukemia the whole first year Paul had been teaching. And countless kids who were bullied and/or going through all manner of regular teen angst.

So, in the grand scheme of things, maybe Casey's issues, though a little unusual, weren't the worst he'd seen. It was, however, really easy to get sucked in.

And he certainly wasn't the only one. A lot of the Teachers' Lounge gossip was about the fallout from Katie Zeldin's play.

"For the last time, I cut the damn kiss," Katie kept saying. She maintained that the second she'd cast Casey and Derek, she'd made sure that there was no indication that there had _ever_ been a kiss in the show. She knew it would have been asking for trouble to expect the two of them to do anything of the kind.

"Do you want me to show you a script?"

"And you're trying to say you didn't expect him to grab her?" Patricia Pummelmann wanted to know.

"Expect?" Katie said. "N-no..." She looked off to the left. Paul headed toward the coffeemaker.

"I didn't even think about it," Katie said. Paul wasn't sure, but he thought he saw her nose grow.

"Ooh!" Paul said. "Who brought in the half n half?"

"Come on," Patricia said. "And after that business with the doll and the locker!"

"Is there any more of that Sugar in the Raw stuff?" Paul asked. They ignored him.

"I couldn't have foreseen anything like that," Katie said.

"Are you glad it happened?" Patricia asked. "The kiss, I mean."

"Well," Katie said. "_Yeah_. I'm not in the habit of getting involved in my students' business—"

Here Paul stuffed a large piece of biscotti into his mouth to keep from saying anything, and found himself unable to chew it.

"But I've watched the two of them suffer for weeks, and it only got harder for them when the story came out, so I looked at that kiss as a triumph!"

"A _what_?" Patricia said, grinning at her.

"A perfect moment of defiance," Katie said.

"Well, if there's one thing Derek Venturi knows about..." Patricia said.

"Kids like him grow up to do great things," Katie said.

"It's not him I'm worried about," Patricia said. "Casey's a wonderful kid, but she's not what you'd call tough."

"Yeah, she's a bit of a hand-wringer," Katie said, nodding. "But she's stronger than you think. What do you think Paul?"

"I think nobody ever cleans this coffeemaker," Paul said, cringing at the overly bitter taste of the mouthful he'd just taken.

When he finally called Casey in to see him, on Monday afternoon, she'd _looked_ pretty together, though. Usually one could spot a frazzled Casey at thirty paces. Her hair would be sticking up, her makeup smudged and her shirttail hanging out. That day, however, she couldn't have looked more serene.

Something was up.

He started out with the usual open-ended questions: How has your week been going? And the like.

"I've decided to turn over a new leaf," Casey said.

"Oh?"

"I've been told that I tend to worry too much, and overthink things..."

"You don't say."

"Haha," Casey said, acknowledging that Paul himself had been at least one of the people to tell her that. "I'm just trying to enjoy myself. Nothing can be gained by thinking about what else people could do to us, right?" That had the feel of a recently digested self-help book, but Paul didn't ask what she'd been reading.

"Um..."

"Because there won't _be_ anything," Casey deluded herself. "People have their own things to worry about. It's silly to think that people would still be interested in me and Derek after all this time."

_And how is De-Nile this time of year?_ Paul thought. This was high school. Kids didn't really have _anything_ better to do than pick on other kids. Some, Paul was convinced, juggled their schedules to get in some good quality bullying time before dinner.

"Well," Paul said.

"Or at least that's what Derek says," she said. _The Tao of Derek,_ Paul thought. _Kid could make millions on infomercials alone._

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think the suspense is killing me!" Casey said. "People keep hanging around us, and I see people snickering and whispering and I keep hearing my name. And I know it's not everybody. It's not even a large group, but it just seems bigger and bigger every time I think about it. So if they're gonna pull something, they should just _do_ it and get it over with. I can deal with tripping. I can even deal with that Frankendoll on my locker. I can't deal with _this_."

Paul said nothing, let Casey get a cup of water from the little cooler in the corner of his office. She downed it like a shot and flattened out the little conical paper cup when she was done. He wondered if she'd make a swan or something out of it.

"And Mr. Lassiter really wants to cancel the dance, huh?" Casey asked, faux-conversational, like she didn't really care either way.

"Looks that way." Last period, Frank Lassiter had given a short (short for him anyway) speech via the PA system. The dance was just the beginning. He threatened to take away all manner of extracurriculars if the person who'd pulled the locker prank didn't come forward by the end of the week. As far as Paul was concerned, it was an absolutely moronic move on his part, one which would only direct more ire Casey's way. But of course, Paul had no say in such things.

Casey sighed. Paul readied himself for the rant he'd been expecting all day, but he didn't get it.

"Well," she said. "I can't worry about this, can I?"

"I hope you won't," Paul said.

"It's not my problem."

"That's the spirit," he said, simultaneously hoping that she meant it and waiting for the dam to break. The Casey dam _always_ broke. It was more of a geyser, come to think of it. Old Faithful.

But the time to dismiss her came and went, and she remained uncharacteristically cool. Everyday Casey would have gone through half a box of tissues, either using them to dry her tears or just shredding them and making his office look like a half-done display in a Christmas tree shop.

When she left, he waited in his office a minute before venturing out himself, so he could make sure she got out of the building without further incident.

She stumbled into Ralph at one point, but was otherwise okay.

Part Three: Derek.

Not much had gone on at school, but Derek had found quite a few interesting texts and emails in his inbox at lunch.

He didn't entirely understand the video clips people had sent, since none of them were captioned. One of them seemed to have two people playing music, one of them had a banjo and the other had a guitar. Derek kept waiting for the joke and it never came. Especially since Sam took his phone and closed the video.

"You forgot to turn the sound off," Sam signed, after he handed the phone back. Derek looked around and saw a couple of people pointing and laughing. He shrugged.

"Oops."

Sam shook his head. Derek asked about that video to see if Sam understood it and it turned out to be another stupid inbreeding joke. He thought that given the time, people should really have been coming up with more creative stuff by now.

He tried to keep Casey busy at lunch so that she would forget to check her phone. Then she got called in to see Paul, so that killed a little more time.

Later, as they walked to the Prince, Casey stared to turn her phone on. Derek took it out of her hand.

"Hey!"

"Don't text and walk," he signed. "You're too clumsy already."

"Gimme!" she signed, trying to get it back from him. He held it out of her reach, eventually stuffing it down his pants. She reached for it, then stopped abruptly once she realized that she was in the middle of the school parking lot. She tried to salvage her dignity by walking to the car like nothing had just happened. Derek opened the door for her, then used the door as a shield so he could pull the phone out again without anyone seeing. He held it out for her, but, as expected, she shook her head. He stuck it into his bag, wondering how long it would take before she remembered to take it out and give it a little Lysol spritz. Only Casey would worry about germs coming from between two layers of clothing. Or maybe she assumed he'd be dumb enough to stuff her phone into his drawers. Whatever.

When he got into the car, she smiled at him, gently took one of his hands, and pulled it toward herself like she was about to kiss it, but instead she squirted hand sanitizer into it. After a couple of token attempts to smoosh it onto her face or into her hair, he used it, then told her (again) that she worried too much.

He started the car and while he waited for it to warm up, something occurred to him.

"That is the second time you actually tried to get into my pants, McDonald," he said.

"What?"

"Don't play innocent," he said. She pointed the bottle of hand sanitizer at his face, ready to strike. He made a grab for it, making her squeeze it instinctively and sending some green goo (with little beads of something or other) flying onto her jacket, the Prince's console and his jeans.

"De-_rek_!"

"This one was all you, Princess," he said, signing the "Princess" part. He tried to help her wipe some of the stuff off and she batted his hand away as it accidentally brushed her left breast. And it really _was_ an accident. He was willing to swear to it.

She signed that he was repulsive, nasty, blockheaded, and a pig.

"I love you too," he signed. Her eyes narrowed, but the smile was coming; he could see it.

"Jerk."

"Stop buttering me up," he signed. "We need to get home." He risked a last peek at her before he pulled out of the parking space and saw her laughing in spite of herself. He winked. She reached over and put on the radio, proof that she couldn't be in too bad of a mood, at least not anymore.

He knew that it hadn't been a good day for her. He didn't think that anyone had_ done _much to her, but she looked over her shoulder constantly, like she used to do whenever he'd promise _not _to prank her. The difference was that this time it wasn't funny.

After they got home, Derek ran out of ideas for distracting her and Casey checked her email. He stood next to her.

He tried to get her to delete some of the messages right off the bat, especially the ones with subject lines that referenced _Flowers in the Attic_ and even a couple that talked about burning in hell. _Really?_ Derek thought to himself.

Casey ignored him and began opening the messages because she couldn't stop herself.

Some of them were the same email over and over again. When she noticed that, she began to delete them, then began to dump emails from anyone who wasn't either a teacher or on her buddy list. The whole thing should've taken maybe three minutes, but she kept fumbling it. He sat down on her bed. Next thing he knew, he was lying across it, wondering exactly how many of these she planned to read and what good it would do her.

"You should just get rid of them," he said, staring at the ceiling. "Want me to do it?"

Her back was to him so she just shook her head.

He got up off her bed and stood behind her so that her could rub her shoulders and generally remind her that he was still there.

She turned around and asked if this was why he took her phone.

"Yeah."

She asked if he'd gotten emails, too. He nodded.

"It's stupid," he signed. Her eyes welled up. "Don't do that," he said.

"I can't help it," she said. That was the problem, she told him. What these morons at school were doing was really stupid but it still made her cry. And she knew that it would only get worse now that the dance was probably getting canceled.

"Here you gotta cry, not school," Derek said, bastardizing the old "Here you gotta eat, not home" saying that his Dad liked so much. She nodded.

He told her about how she was better than this and how it couldn't last forever and rambled on in that vein for a minute or so, the whole time wishing that Nora or Lizzie or someone would come by and take over because he had reached the tears quota for the next twenty years. Then he paused.

She tapped him. "What?" she asked.

"I'm stopping now." he signed. "Sound too much like my Mom."

His Mom had given him several similar talks whenever someone picked on him in elementary school. There had always been idiots making fun of the way he talked or doing fake sign language, wiggling fingers and generally acting like they were surprised that he knew how to walk upright. And it wasn't always kids doing it. He still got the odd person who talked at him very slowly and in a louder voice. Sam and Ralph made things easier of course, and anyway, the worst of the crap had stopped around the time he'd had his first growth spurt.

"Your Mom is pretty awesome," Casey said. He agreed.

"I know Nora's pretty ready with the pep talk, too," he said. "Dad, not so much. But maybe he's good for some cash."

She laughed.

"And screw the dance," he signed. "Nobody cool goes to the dances."

"I wanted to go," she signed.

"See?" he signed. "That's what you have me for. To save you from yourself."

She frowned.

"It'll be okay," he said.

"Yeah," she signed. She pointed to either side of her chest then spread the fingers of her right hand and closed them quickly, saying she wanted the two of them to go. Then she pointed at him and held one hand palm up and swung two fingers of her other hand back and forth over the palm.

"That was never gonna happen." There was no way she was getting him to dance.

She pouted and he could see how she could have made it happen. Really, if there was still a dance, he'd probably take her. He'd put up a fight, but he'd just have to give in eventually. She'd had a hard couple of weeks, after all.

But there would be no dancing. His willingness to make her happy would only go so far.

Part Four: Emily.

It paid to have connections. Emily had managed to be one of the first to know that the dance was back on.

She found out about this over cold pizza at the Schlepper house. Sheldon was in the middle of teasing her about how she picked her slice apart before eating it, separating pepperoni, cheese and bread and nibbling on all three. Like a squirrel, he said.

She'd been about to clobber him when Shawn came klutzing in, skidding on the kitchen floor and banging into the island hard enough to make Emily feel sympathy pain.

But Shawn (who, being a Schlepper, was probably used to banging into stuff) barely stopped to acknowledge it.

"You guys?" he said, breathlessly.

"What," Sheldon asked. "Did you get the mail?" University acceptance letters were starting to go out and Shawn had been biting his nails all week because he hadn't gotten any yet.

He pulled out three overstuffed envelopes, plopping them onto the counter and staring at them, still breathing hard. Sheldon turned back to his pizza, took a bite, chewed slowly and finally swallowed while his brother did nothing.

"So, don't you think you should open those?" Sheldon asked.

"Uh-huh," Shawn said, not making a move.

"Gimme," Sheldon said, wrestling one away. He handed it to Emily and took one for himself, leaving Shawn one.

"Ooh," Emily said. "Haaaahvard." She had an attack of deja vu as Shawn actually started to hyperventilate. Lately, it seemed like everyone she knew hyperventilated like that.

"Okay," Sheldon said, getting ready to open his. "On three?" Shawn said nothing, but it looked like he might obey. "Would you do the honors, Squirrel?"

"How long would it take to kill you with a million little papercuts?" Emily asked. Sheldon pouted.

"Okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "One, two, three." They ripped the envelopes open, but it was just a formality. He got into all three schools, McGill, Harvard, and UBC.

"That's one less person to fight for the bathroom," Sheldon said, right before he found himself on the receiving end of a bone-cracking hug. Emily made a token attempt to run away, but, as there was no escape from a Schlepper, she got to learn what an almost empty toothpaste tube felt like, too.

"There was something else," Shawn said.

"You just got voted Canada's youngest Prime Minister and a supermodel just asked you to marry her," Sheldon deadpanned.

"_And_ I'm going to Disneyland," Shawn said. "But no. Seriously. I was hanging around the computer room, trying to fix some layout I screwed up, ya know?" Here, he stopped to steal some of his brother's pepperoni and got his hand slapped.

"And Lassiter was going all 'splodey in his office," Shawn said.

"Uh-huh," Sheldon said.

"Guess why."

"He find out who stole the fetal pig from the bio lab?" Emily asked.

"Ew," Shawn said. "No."

"What about the new desktop wallpaper in the computer room?" Sheldon asked. Someone had replaced the school logo with pictures of a stripper in various stages of undress.

"No," Shawn said, laughing at the memory of that. "It was about the locker thing."

Emily's ears perked up. "Who was it?" she asked.

"I don't know know her name," Shawn said. "She's in grade ten. Skinny? Flat-ironed hair?"

"_That _narrows it down," Emily said.

"I know," Shawn said. "But it's one of those girls that looks like every other girl. Anyway, I didn't get the whole story, 'cuz Mr. Greebey came out right then and was all 'You have someplace to be, don't you?' So I had to split. But I have never heard anyone yell that loud in my life."

"Think that means the dance is back on?" Emily wondered.

Shawn shrugged. "Why? Were you dweebs actually gonna go?"

"Maybe," she said.

"What else is there to do?" Sheldon asked. Shawn had to admit he had a point.

"I need to call Casey," Emily said. This called for a shopping trip.

Part Five: Casey.

The next day, during first period, there was another long speech from Lassiter. This time, he called an impromptu assembly. Most of the kids in her class seemed to welcome it. They took it as an opportunity to get a little extra sleep. Derek's class, she knew, had a test first period, so they were ecstatic, but Casey didn't like it. It was hard to feel like it wasn't calling even more attention to her and Derek.

"Bring it," Derek signed, when she told him as much. "I love attention."

Casey frowned.

"And you do too," he signed.

"Not like this," she signed.

Lassiter got up to the podium and spent the better part of an hour lecturing them all on bullying and what happens to kids who were bullied. While Casey agreed that this was something that her classmates needed to hear, Lassiter had to know better than to do it this way, didn't he?

As the principal droned, Derek reached back and gave a light tug on Casey's braid. In retaliation, she reached over and smoothed his hair down so that he'd have to mess it up again. Christine kept interpreting what Lassiter said, and though Derek clearly wasn't that interested, he watched her so as not to piss her off. Casey turned to watch Christine, too, letting Lassiter's actual voice fade to _Peanuts_ style "wah-wah-wah" sounds.

With one hand Derek worked the muscles in the back of her neck, knowing that it made her sleepy. He really knew what he was doing, too, because the bell woke her up.

"Good morning," Derek signed, smirking at her. She sat up fast, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

"You always snore like that, Case?" Trevor asked, gathering up his stuff.

Casey gasped. "I. Do. Not. Snore!" Derek snickered.

"Quit messing with her," Sam said, because _someone_ had to be the grownup. "You don't snore, Case. But you _do_ have a little bit of um..." He rubbed the side of his own mouth to get her to do the same. She did, but found nothing.

"Gotcha," Sam said. She picked up her folder to hit him.

"Haven't you been listening, Casey?" Sam said, in a shocked voice. "Zero tolerance for violence!" Derek laughed out loud, which made some teachers glare at them.

"Sorry," he said, signing the word for good measure.

Casey hid her face in both hands.

"Casey," Derek said, pulling her hands down. "What do I have to do to get you to chill?"

"Come dancing with me," she signed, without missing a beat. Derek smacked his forehead as Sam and Ralph laughed at him.

"Ooh," Sam said, wincing. He tapped Derek on the shoulder. "May as well give up, dude."

"Never," Derek said. Casey hunched over, put her head down and tried to disappear again.

"Oh come on," Derek said. "That is not gonna work."

"What does she want?" Trevor asked. Sam filled him in. "How long do you think it'll be before he caves?"

"Any second now," Sam said.

Casey gave Derek puppy eyes. "No," Derek signed.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

Derek's eyes narrowed. "We're gonna be late for class," he signed. Sounded like a yes to Casey.

She tried not to smile. Sam and Ralph made little whipcracking gestures, first behind Derek's back, then to his face.

Part Six: Nora.

As Nora walked came in from work, she noticed that things around the house felt less dramatic than usual. Derek was making Marti a snack in the kitchen, slicing apples and having her spoon out peanut butter for dipping. Edwin and Lizzie sprawled on the couch together, watching cartoons.

She tapped Derek. "Where's Casey?"

"With Emily," he said. She nodded, that was all five kids accounted for. She sat down at the table and stole a piece of apple for herself. Marti offered her peanut butter and she accepted.

"You should ask Nora," Marti signed to Derek, her mouth full.

"Ask what?" Nora signed.

"Nothing," Derek signed.

"Not nothing," Marti signed.

"Smarti," Derek said.

"But Lizzie said it would surprise Casey," Marti signed.

"What?" Nora signed again. "Tell me."

"Teach him to dance," Marti said. "So he can dance with Casey."

"Oh my gosh!" Nora squeed. Derek covered his face.

She pulled his hands down so he could see her. "But you can dance! What do you need me for?"

"Dance, dance, dance, dance," Marti chanted.

"But," Nora said, thinking it over. "You really _should_ practice."

Derek looked skeptical, but she knew he _wanted_ to learn this time. He just didn't want to admit it. He shrugged.

She bounced a little more. This was really exciting. Wait till she told Abby.

"Wait," Nora signed. "Dance is tomorrow?"

Derek nodded, looking like he wished he could hide in one of the kitchen cabinets.

"Not much time," Nora signed.

"Forget it," Derek signed.

"Is she next door?"

Derek shook his head. "They went to the mall," he signed.

"Okay," Nora said, pulling out her phone and firing off a text to Casey, asking her to pick up the dry cleaning on her way home. The cleaners always took forever; she'd be stuck at the counter for a while.

"Wild goose chase," Nora explained, waggling the phone. Derek was unfamiliar with the expression. "Want to keep her busy. Give us time to dance."

Derek groaned. She grabbed one of his hands and dragged him toward the living room. She realized just a second too late that his hands were sticky from cutting up the apple. He also paused to suck a little peanut butter off the heel of one hand. _Boys_, she thought. She chased Lizzie and Ed off the couch and had Derek help her move it, though he pretended he'd rather be doing anything else.

Nora poked through a small pile of CDs that were stacked neatly next to the player. The neat pile was always Casey's, the haphazard, CDs hanging half out of the cases belonged to...pretty much everyone else. Casey tried to organize those, too but it was a losing battle. She put in one of Casey's Mix CDs hitting the bass boost and put the floor speakers face down. She kicked her heels off.

She started with something fast, bouncing in place a little hoping he'd do the same once he got a handle on the beat, but what he did was look at her in confusion.

"Fast?" he signed.

"Yeah," Nora said, she started doing some simple moves. "More midtempo actually. Just to get you started."

Mid-song, she began to realize that while her taste in music grew with the times, her dance moves were firmly stuck in 1991. Hence the look all three kids were giving her. Marti alone didn't care, jumping right along with her.

"Okay," she signed. "Change of plans." A Rob Thomas song came on and inspiration hit. It had sort of a Latin feel to it, so she took his hands and started to do sort of an oversimplified salsa. Or maybe it was a mambo. Really, Nora had no idea. She'd taken a couple of dance lessons before she was married, but not seriously. It looked good, whatever it was and Derek, after a couple of run throughs where he looked exactly like George (head down, watching his feet), began to pick it up.

"More hips," Nora said, when he finally looked at her. She let the song end and and the next song start up, knowing it would be faster, but it was a little more syncopated than either of them felt comfortable with, so she skipped it. Then she found a good fast one and had Edwin help her teach him what Edwin called the Default. It mostly consisted of a little head bopping and the odd clap.

"Do it when you can't think of anything else to do," Edwin signed. "Works for walking off the dance floor, leaning against the wall, stuff like that."

Again, Derek looked a little dubious. "Do you know what happens to little boys who mess with their brothers?" he signed.

"If I wanted to mess with you, I'd teach you this," Edwin signed. Then he did something dorky that looked like it might have come from _Footloose_.

"Casey would never ask me to dance again," Derek signed. He pretended to think it over. "Show me?"

"Nice try," Nora signed.

"Dance with me!" Marti signed. Derek picked her up and swung her in a circle, losing the beat immediately, but Nora still wished she had the video camera handy.

"Now Lizzie," Marti said, after he put her down and she got her equilibrium back.

"That's okay," Lizzie said. Derek reached for her hand, but she pulled away. "Homework." Derek shook his head.

"If I have to dance," he signed. "You have to dance, too."

In the midst of this, Casey opened the side door. She saw what was going on, locked eyes with Nora, then backed out and shut the door again. It was a miracle that Derek's back was turned.

Nora's phone buzzed.

_I'm on my way_, Casey texted. _Be there in five min._

True to her word, Casey came in, through the front door, five minutes later, having given Nora time to cut the music and turn the speakers right side up. Derek moved the couch back and, when Casey came in, was sprawled in his recliner like he'd been there all afternoon.

Casey leaned over the back of the chair and gave Derek an upside down kiss before putting her packages down. After he'd turned his attention back to the TV, she winked at Nora who was in the kitchen, microwaving some well-deserved tea.

"How'd he do?" Casey asked

"Why Casey, whatever do you mean?" Nora asked.

"Mo-oom!"

"He was great," Nora admitted. "Try to look surprised, though, okay?"

"Will do," Casey said. "Who left peanut butter on the counter?"

"I'm saving that!" Marti said.

TBC.

A/N: I know! I know! I took forever, but believe me when I say I didn't mean to. And you knew I wouldn't leave people hanging. So, anyone who's still reading, forgive me?


	51. Chapter 51

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Fifty-One.

Part One: Emily.

The news broke early on Friday that Cindy Connors was getting expelled for the locker thing. Emily knew that Cindy didn't have the imagination to pull off such a prank, which meant that she could not have acted alone, if it was her in the first place. According to Tinker, the prevailing theory was that she was the one dumb enough to get caught.

"But if Lassiter thinks he's gonna smoke anyone else out _now,_ he's nuts," Tinker whispered. Something in him would not allow him to say that out loud.

"Is he really gonna expel her or is it just an empty threat?" Sheldon asked. "So that she'll give someone else up?"

"Maybe," Tinker said. "All I know is he's dying to expel _some_body, which I figured was a good reason to get the hell out of his office before he saw me."

It didn't take long before word got to Casey and Derek and, since neither of them had the faintest idea who Cindy Connors was, Emily had had to drag them to the library during lunch and show them an old yearbook.

Casey recognized her picture right away, but Derek still drew a blank.

"C'mon," Emily said. "You know."

"I really don't," Derek said. "And I know everybody."

"Well," Em said. "She definitely knows you."

"She was mad that I got that part in the play," Casey explained. "Opposite you. She wanted it."

"She's had a crush on you forever," Emily signed.

Derek shrugged. "Torturing my girlfriend was supposed to win me over?" he signed.

It was Emily's turn to shrug. "Probably not the best idea."

"Girlfriend," Casey said to herself. Derek wasn't looking at her.

"What's funny," Derek signed, when he saw Emily's face.

"Nothing," Emily signed. He turned around to see what she'd been looking at, but Casey had more or less wiped the goofy He-called-me-his-girlfriend look off of her face. Derek eyed her suspiciously, but moved on.

"Do you need a ride tonight?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Wait a minute!" Casey said, before being shushed by someone or other. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Derek snickered. She tapped his arm.

"What?"

"We have to talk about this."

"We have room in the car," Derek signed. "What's to talk about?"

"Not that," Casey signed. "This girl we don't know who hates me and now just got kicked out of school."

"Not our problem," Derek signed.

"Can they really throw her out for this?" Casey signed.

"Maybe they should bake her a cake instead," Derek signed. "Are you nuts?"

"They should have just suspended her," Casey whispered. "Next time you play a prank, you wanna get expelled?"

"I loosen salt shakers," Derek signed. "I put gummy worms in sandwiches. I don't commit borderline hate crimes."

Casey didn't have an answer to that.

"Why do you care so much?" Derek signed.

"I don't know," Casey signed.

"We didn't make her do anything," Derek signed. "We didn't even complain. She's the idiot who pulled this shit and was stupid enough to get caught."

"But," Casey signed. "What if she has friends?"

_Good question,_ Emily thought. Except that this girl didn't inspire the kind of friendship that caused people to avenge her expulsion.

"What is this," Derek signed. "The mafia? You worry too much." Emily nodded in agreement.

"So what," Casey signed. "Are you saying it's over?" She looked skeptical.

Derek scrunched up his face a little. "Probably not," he signed. "But that was the worst of it."

"And Lassiter actually did something about it," Emily whispered. "So stop being such a Casey and tell me what time you're coming over!"

"I'm coming over?"

"Yeah," Emily whispered. "How else is Derek supposed to pick you up for your first date?"

"Date?" Derek signed.

"We haven't had one of those, have we?" Casey signed.

Derek began to argue, but then agreed that no, they had not. Derek, to Emily's endless amusement looked a little nervous about this. She made a mental note to charge her camera. There needed to be pictures.

Part Two: Derek.

He was most emphatically _not_ a formal date kind of a guy. Why everything had to be so freakin ceremonial was beyond him, like it was really so awful to just hang out with someone and see what happened. That's what he usually did. There were no plans. In the past, he'd turn to a girl and say "hey, want pizza?" and then they got pizza. And then, if he was lucky, they might make out a little. Even with Kendra, they mostly just hung out around the house and necked. The system worked. He didn't see any need to mess with the system.

_Date_, he realized, was a four letter word. But Casey's face had really lit up when Emily used it. And then Emily went and blabbed to their friends that a date was about to occur, like he didn't have enough troubles.

"Get flowers," Sam signed, behind Casey's back. Ralph nodded.

"Compliment her shoes," Ralph signed.

During Study Hall, he got a text from Linda: _Wear grownup clothes. No ironic tees. _And one from Sheldon: _Wanna borrow a tie?_

People really seemed to enjoy his pain.

At home, he waited for Casey to hop into the shower, then he went out again in search of some flowers because a gesture was called for. Especially in case he ended up humiliating himself at the dance.

Roses were out—too much potential for personal injury. He knew that much, but that was all he knew. Walking into the first flower shop he came to, he forgot even that. The place was freakin intimidating, the air seeming to push at him as he looked around. He was hoping for it to be like the grocery store where he just got what he needed and left. Instead, a tap on his shoulder revealed a woman behind him. He smiled. She looked annoyed, asking (he guessed) if he needed help. He took a breath. It was going to be one of _those_ transactions. He just hoped things didn't degenerate into charades.

She said some other stuff, looking impatient, so he pointed to his ear and said, "Sorry, I'm not understanding you-"

"Oookay," she began, then whatever followed was gibberish.

"I'm Deaf," he said, suppressing an eyeroll. "So how bout we do this." He pulled his emergency notepad and a pen out of his pocket and prayed that he could read her handwriting.

_Sorry about that,_ she wrote. _Said we're about to close. Can't take special orders but can help w/ other stuff if you like._

He nodded, told her the basics: first date, not too much money, no thorns. She smiled then, turning to an older lady behind the counter and saying something to her. The older lady smiled and said something that he didn't understand. It might not have been English, though. Next thing he knew, another woman came from the back to giggle at him. It was like they thought he was a little lost baby duck or something. They all stared and smiled, which didn't make him uncomfortable _at all._

_I'm going to get you for this, Sam,_ he thought.

The other women watched as the first one pulled out bouquets to show him. After several color combinations that hurt his brain and/or made him think of funerals, she showed him some blue things in his price range. So he decided on those.

_Does she have pets? These could be poisonous to pets._ The saleslady wrote. He shook his head and thought back to Nora's sister's wedding, feeling really glad that Marti was past the eating random stuff stage. The women fussed over him some more and he couldn't decide whether he was frustrated that he couldn't understand a word they said or if he was better off not knowing what they were chirping about. One reached out and patted his hair, so he decided that ignorance was bliss.

Once he was satisfied that Casey had left for Emily's, he came home and ran into Nora. The lost baby duck feeling washed over him anew.

"George!" she called. When Dad showed up, Nora did what she could to embarrass him some more and Derek looked for an escape route. Lizzie and Edwin thought this was hilarious, of course and Marti was puzzled.

"These don't really smell like anything," she said. "You sure they're not paper?" She poked one tentatively.

"If I wanted paper flowers, I would've asked you to make some," Derek signed. She seemed satisfied with that.

"Was this Sam's idea?" Lizzie signed.

"No," Derek lied.

"Ralph's?" Edwin signed.

Derek narrowed his eyes and admitted it was Sam's idea.

"Casey will love them," Marti signed.

"She better," Derek signed.

Dad pulled out his wallet and handed Derek some cash, ten bucks of which had to go immediately to Edwin. Then Derek had to jump into the shower, after which he spent ten minutes playing with one little piece of hair that kept hanging over his forehead in a non-sexy way and brushing his nose to boot. Maybe Nora was right. Maybe he _did_ need a haircut. Usually, he told her that he'd get one when his Dad got one. Since he was currently putting on clothes that Nora picked out, though, maybe he could admit that sometimes she knew what she was talking about.

He messed with his hair for a while longer, trying to make it look like he'd just hopped out of the tub looking awesome, knowing full well that he wasn't fooling anyone but unable to stop himself. At least, he consoled himself, he didn't use any of the torture devices Casey or Nora used. Just his hands. And a hell of a lot of goo.

"What smells fruity?" was the first thing that Edwin said when Derek got downstairs. The kid was screwing with his head. Nothing was even the least bit fruity. Okay, Derek had to admit to himself, maybe some of the hair stuff was a little bit lemony but that did not give Edwin the right to—

There was a video camera pointed at him. It would not be good to do what he was thinking of doing to his brother in the presence of something that could be used against him in court.

He grinned his best look-how-innocent-I-am grin.

"Nora," Derek said. "What are you doing?"

Behind the camera, she grinned. "It's my (mumblemumble) as your wicked stepmother to embarrass you."

"Noraaaa," Derek said. Nora pouted.

A hand waved somewhere off to his right. "Give up now, son," Dad signed. Nora swung the camera over to him. Then swung it back to Derek for his reply. This video would be shakier than _The Blair Witch Project_ at this rate.

"Never," Derek signed. Nora was still pouting behind the viewfinder. He knew a losing battle when he saw one, but he had to protect his honor and fight the good fight.

"You look pretty," Marti signed. Edwin laughed at him, but Derek really didn't have the heart (or the time) to correct her. As for Edwin, he'd probably sleep with one eye open and spend the next week or so shaking his shoes out before he put them on. And Derek would have a good time watching him be paranoid.

"Thanks, Smarti," he signed, crouching down real quick to hug her and kiss the top of her head.

"Ooh, lemony!" she said, after he let go of her. He narrowed his eyes. Insubordination spread like an evil crusty rash if you didn't put a stop to it early. Derek vowed never to forget that again.

Before Lizzie could have a chance to say something wiseass, Derek decided it was time to get going.

Thinking he was slick, he grabbed his jacket and the flowers and took off like a shot toward Emily's. He was sure there was no way Nora'd go outside without first taking time to put a coat on. So he was feeling really satisfied with himself, sure he'd given her the slip. Then saw a familiar shadow behind him and turned around to saw her right behind him. She shivered a little, but was still right there, camera and all.

"Aren't you cold, Nora?"

She shook her head. He'd been about the ring the Em's doorbell, but instead, turned and faced his stepmother a little more fully.

"Are you sure?" he asked. The light wasn't the best, but he clearly lipread a "De-_rek_!" so he laughed and hit the doorbell so she could get her photo op and he,Casey, and Em could get going already.

Emily opened the door, hugged Derek real quick and waved them in. Emily's Mom waited by the stairs with a digital camera of her own, but there was, thankfully, no sign of Emily's Dad anywhere. Derek kept a wary eye out for the man in case he decided to get revenge for what Derek had done to the peonies that time. Or the incident with the snowball. Or the sandbox.

"Aren't you freezing?" Emily asked Nora. Derek chuckled, even though he hadn't exactly put his jacket on either and was feeling the abrupt change in temperature very keenly himself. His ears might actually have been on fire.

Emily was talking directly to the camera, and making big game show hostess gestures, but Derek was distracted by something swatting his arm. It was Emily's cat, who sniffed him and tried to crawl up his arm. He gave it a little scritch under the chin. Seemed only polite.

Something swatted Derek's other arm.

"Pay attention!" Emily signed. Then she did some more game show moves as he finally looked up to the top of the stairs.

The cat jumped onto his shoulder, nails digging in, but he had more important things to deal with. Like Casey in this little dress she had on. It was black and had no sleeves and a swingy skirt. She was about as covered up as she could be, but he couldn't believe how hot she was.

Somebody, maybe Emily's Mom, pried the cat off of Derek as he watched Casey slowly come downstairs. Part of it was Casey being dramatic, Derek knew. But, he also saw her looking down at her feet as she went along, trying not to trip.

"Hi," she said when she reached the bottom. He smiled. There would be no talking for him. He raised his hands to sign something when he remembered the bunch of flowers still in his right hand. It was a miracle that he hadn't dropped it when the cat jumped him.

"Oh my God!" she said when he gave her the flowers. He couldn't help but notice her inspecting them carefully, like she was afraid they'd shoot water or have hidden plastic bugs (or real ones). Then, when she was satisfied that they were okay, she kissed him, right in front of what seemed like every camera in the world. Not that he would have stopped her for anything. When she was done, she thumbed some of her lipstick off of him.

Emily nudged his arm again, reminding Derek that other people were in the room. He didn't necessarily like to be reminded.

"Casey looks beautiful, yes?" Emily signed

Derek nodded. It would have been cool to come up with something suave and James Bond-ish to say, but he had nothing.

"You look amazing," Casey signed. Later on, Derek wondered if Emily's Mom caught any of what they were saying. Seemed kinda rude, actually. If he could have gotten his mouth to work, he would've. Meanwhile, Casey picked some cat hairs off of his shoulder.

"The cat likes me," he signed. She nodded.

"Ready?" she asked, speaking and signing at the same time. So she must've remembered poor Em's Mom, too.

_You have no idea,_ he thought. But he just nodded. He saw everybody laughing at him, had that baby duck feeling again, but this time, he couldn't have cared less.

Part Three: Casey.

Casey owed Emily a loonie. She'd spent half the night fretting over her dress. It was a little too prissy, she said. Even for her.

"Knew I should've gone with the halter dress," she said, holding it up and frowning. The halter dress dipped a little lower, showed more skin.

"This is perfect," Emily said.

"You're just saying that because we don't have time to go back to the store."

"I'm saying it," Emily said, taking a deep breath, "because it's true. You loved that dress _yesterday_."

"I know."

"And Derek would love you no matter what you wore," Emily said. "Whatever dress you put on, he'll only be thinking of one thing."

"What's that?" Casey asked.

Emily looked disappointed in her. "How to get you out of it," she said. "Duh!"

"Oh my God," Casey said, covering her face.

"And he's been thinking the same thing since he met you, probably."

"Oh please."

"And you've been thinking the same thing about him."

"I have _not_!"

"Come on."

"It's true," Casey said. "It was the furthest thing from my mind."

"Until when?" Emily asked.

"The wedding," Casey admitted.

"When you danced?" Emily asked, climbing up onto her bed and sitting cross legged.

Casey hung the dress back onto the hook behind Em's closet door and sat down next to her. "A little bit before that," she said. "Edwin was teaching Lizzie all the dirty signs and I was all ready to stop him when Derek stopped _me_ and lipread what Lizzie was saying to Edwin. And Derek was leaning in to talk to me and all I could think was 'he has blond eyelashes'..."

"Yup," Emily said. "What else?"

"I dunno," Casey said. "He seemed so sure of himself—I mean, now I know it's all part of the act, but I was so jealous then."

"Anything else?" Emily teased. Casey shook her head. "Come on," Emily said again.

"You're gonna think it's weird."

"Spill."

"His accent" Casey said. "The way he says—"

"Anything with the letter -s in it," Emily said. "And -r sometimes, too."

"Well, yeah," Casey said, guiltily. "You notice that, too?"

"It's just so Derek," Emily said, shrugging. "It'd almost be sad if he lost it. But you know what's cuter?"

"What?"

"When you render him speechless sometimes?" Emily said. "I did it to Sheldon once, but he recovered way faster than Derek usually does. Though with this dress..." She pointed at her own dress, which was burgundy with lace. "I'm hoping to pass the thirty second mark. Bet you a loonie you get two minutes easily. Now are we getting ready or what?"

So, when she came downstairs and saw a cat-covered Derek staring up at her, she knew she'd lost the bet.

"You owe me a loonie," Em sing-songed blatantly behind Derek's back. "I-I-I told you so."

Em's Mom, Linda, pulled Neville off of Derek, with a small amount of struggle. Casey, had had Neville Furbottom climb on her often enough to know how much it could hurt, but Derek didn't seem too bothered. He handed her this huge bunch of irises, which even seemed to impress Emily's Mom. Casey stared down at them in disbelief then grabbed Derek and planted one supremely awkward kiss on him, getting some flakes of supposedly smudge-proof lipstick on him.

Emily asked him if he liked Casey's dress and he nodded, causing giggles from both Moms.

"Two minutes, thirty seconds," Emily said.

"What's two minutes and thirty seconds?," Mom asked, taking the flowers off her hands.

"Nothing," Emily lied. Linda smirked, but didn't call her on it.

After picking some fur from Derek's shirt, Casey decided that it was too hot in the Davis's foyer. Derek's face was turning the same deep red of his shirt and her own face couldn't have been too far behind. And it was all being captured on video.

When they got outside, the cold air felt incredibly good and Casey wasn't in much of a hurry to get into the car.

"Guys?" Emily asked, after they stood there for a minute. "Really cold out here." She waved her hand at Derek then put up both fists and shook them like she was freezing to death. Derek went around the back of the car and opened both passenger side doors like a real gentleman.

"Ooh?" Emily said, looking pointedly at Casey before climbing into the back. Casey knew that that was Emily's way of reminding her about all the ranting she'd done about Derek's bad manners in the past. Derek, luckily, saw none of this as he busied himself with getting the car started so he could put the heat on.

Once the car was warm and Casey'd found a decent radio station, they set off to pick up Sheldon, who klutzed his way into the backseat and was rewarded by Emily opening her coat and giving him a peek of her dress. At least Casey hoped it was just a peek of the _dress_ and not anything else. Based on the full ninety seconds (she counted) of total incoherence (and giggling) from Sheldon, Casey wasn't so sure. She'd assumed that Derek hadn't noticed this, but, as they crossed the parking lot, Derek turned to Emily and signed "dirty girl." She flipped him off, then put her arm around Sheldon, presumably leading him so that he'd make it to the door without incident. Casey giggled at the thought, then tripped, with Derek catching her before she could hit the ground.

_Damn shoes_, she thought. Derek leaned in close so she thought he was being solicitious, but then he called her Klutzilla.

"Jerk," she said, grinning and shoving him. He stumbled into a car, thankfully one without an alarm, but recovered quickly and fell into step next to her.

"Need help walking the rest of the way?" Derek signed.

"No," Casey signed. "Do _you_?"

"Don't know," Derek said. "I might have hurt myself. Maybe I shouldn't try to dance—"

"Nice try," Casey said. Derek snapped his fingers—curses, foiled again.

Casey stopped just outside the door. Derek looked at her questioningly as she reached into her bag and pulled out a little plastic container which contained earplugs. He didn't look surprised by this; after all he was the one who told her that he and Kendra had left the last dance because of the noise level. And if the music was cranked up enough to annoy someone with a more than a hundred decibel hearing loss, it was too loud.

She handed him a pair.

"For what?" Derek asked.

"You have eardrums," she said. "They can still rupture."

He looked at her in disbelief and shook his head. "It gets loud in there. Not that loud," he signed.

She looked skeptical. "Make me happy," she signed, giving him big, sad puppy eyes until he rolled his own eyes and took the earplugs from her.

Protecting her hearing was all well and good, but it made her life a little difficult when people decided that they wanted to stop and talk in the hall outside the cafetorium. Derek, of course, really enjoyed watching Casey walk right by people who were talking to her. She heard voices, of course, but they were just background noise, without any relevance to her. She even vaguely heard Derek's voice right behind her before he tapped her.

"What?"

"Sheldon says you should wait until you're ready to go inside before you put the earplugs in," Derek signed. "Cuts down on confusion." She turned around. Sheldon and Emily waved at her.

"I have extra," she said. "Do you guys need any?" They laughed at her.

"What?"

"Talking too loud," Emily signed. Casey rolled her eyes and took one plug out. Derek was absolutely loving this. She decided to ignore her the amusement of her so-called friends and boyfriend for the moment.

"Seriously, I bought, like, six pairs."

"We're good," Sheldon said, and when Casey protested further, pulled out a little plastic container of his own. "I'm a musician. Of _course_ I have earplugs."

Derek's eyes widened just a little, and he looked from Sheldon to Casey and back again. Emily laughed.

"What the hell's funny _now_?" Casey wanted to know.

"It's just that Derek and I really seem to have similar taste," Emily said. Sheldon looked at Casey dubiously and she looked back at him with what was probably the same look on her face, further cracking Derek and Emily up.

"I don't have to listen to this," Casey said, putting her earplug back in.

"You have a nicer ass than he does," Derek signed. Sheldon flipped him off. It took her a second to realize that Derek had not said that out loud and that Sheldon had understood. She took the earplug out again.

"Hey!"

"Hmm?" Sheldon asked.

"You understood that?"

"Yeah," Sheldon shrugged. "I've been in the same class with Derek, Sam, and Ralph for years. Think I wouldn't pick anything up?"

"Yeah, but I thought you only knew the dirty stuff," Casey said.

"Like 'ass?'" He grinned. Casey shrugged. Point taken. She popped the earplug back in for the last time.

The dance didn't have any particular theme to it, but somebody or other had tried to make it festive. The caff was filled with balloons and crepe paper. Some of the balloons were randomly floating against the ceiling and Derek, unable to resist, reached up and grabbed one. He tried to tie the ribbon somewhere onto Casey's person, but couldn't find anything handy to tie a loop around without her getting wise and fighting him off. Otherwise, he was bizarrely gentlemanly, taking her coat and hanging it up (in full view so that she could see that he wasn't stuffing anything weird into her pockets) and getting her a drink. Later on, she would learn from both Linda and Kendra, that this was how he treated dates, that he'd never been that Neanderthal she thought she knew, except around her, whenever it was most likely to piss her off. But for the moment, she was being cartoonishly suspicious, thinking that he loved her, but sure that he was physically unable to resist pranking her. Hence, she held the soda he brought her far away from her body when she pulled the tab.

Derek laughed at her. He was doing a lot of that. When she finished her little mini can of punch, he asked if she wanted another.

"No wasting time," she signed.

"Who me?" he mouthed.

"Time to dance," she signed. Very few people were dancing so far, most, by the looks of things, were trying to talk over the noise. She could hear the music quite well with the earplugs. She could only imagine what it'd be like if she took them out. She pulled Derek by the arm and suppressed some deja vu as she led him to the dancefloor. Something slowish was playing. Sounded like it might have been Regina Spektor. She could feel the stuttery rhythm coming up through her chest, and she knew Derek could feel it, too. He let her lead again, but this time he was looser, more self assured, less likely to bolt. This was a good thing because if the next song was good, he was stuck dancing with her for a while.

The next song was a bhangra song she couldn't identify, but it brought more people onto the floor, mostly to grind, causing chaperones to threaten them with garden hoses and such. But the whole thing was too unfamiliar and clearly made Derek a little uncomfortable, so Casey let him sit it out, preferring to see if she and Emily could remember any of the Bollywood stuff they'd seen. They didn't remember much, but both Derek and Sheldon seemed transfixed, all the same.

Come to think of it, it really didn't take much to entertain them, Casey mused.

The DJ transitioned the bhangra into Jennifer Lopez and Casey was able to drag Derek out of his chair. They left Emily on Sheldon's lap, where she'd made herself at home, and hit the floor once again.

He put his arms around her and they moved in sync. She decided not to tell him that suddenly he was leading. It would be like telling a baby elephant that his lucky feather wasn't really magic. He'd forget how to fly if she did that.

She wanted to be a wiseass and ask him where he learned how to dance like this, just to see what he'd say, but she didn't want to break his concentration. His eyes didn't leave hers and one corner of his mouth started to turn up, following shortly after by the other one. He was having a good time.

Part Four: Ralph.

Ralph was running late, having helped his Grandma with some stuff, namely shopping and prep for a moussaka they were having for a family dinner the next day.

"This is how you get the girls, Ralphie," she told him. "Don't let anyone tell you any different. A woman likes a man who will cook for her once in a while." He believed her. He also believed his Mom who told him that one day he'd move out and he needed to learn to cook for himself because he sure as hell wasn't coming home for dinner every night.

Also, he just liked hanging out with his Grandma. She knew all kinds of interesting stuff and knew how to teach it to him. But she'd sent him on his way when she realized how late it had gotten.

"You have that dance, don't you?"

"Eh," Ralph said.

"Don't 'eh' me," Grandma said. "You're not old enough to 'eh!' When you get to be over fifty, you can 'eh' all you want, but now you're sixteen. So go dance." She swatted him lightly with a dish towel.

He pecked her on the cheek and took off. He was on his own for this one. He didn't have a date and this time he couldn't even third wheel it with Sam and Lana because Sam had stayed home sick that day and Ralph guessed Lana was over at his house feeding him soup or whatever. If his sisters let her near him. He texted Sam to make sure he didn't need any food or anything. Sam texted that he never wanted to hear the word food again. But otherwise he was okay. Lana had been there for a little while, so all was okay.

_I'll come over tomorrow_, Ralph texted. He would have offered some of the moussaka, but he couldn't spell it. He went home, showered and dressed quickly, borrowing one of his Dad's dress shirts to put over his dark jeans.

"Midnight," his Dad said, as he headed out. He was hanging out in the recliner. His Mom had fallen asleep on the couch already, Hagrid, their Great Dane, under her head.

"Midnight?" Ralph asked. He'd only asked to confirm, to make sure he'd heard right. His curfew was usually eleven.

"Okay, one o' clock."

"Thanks, Dad," he said. His Dad took his hand off the dog and held out a fist for him to bump. Ralph bumped it, then gave the dog's ears a good scratch before he left.

For a change, it was hard finding unattached girls to dance with. People were paired off left and right, but Ralph wasn't too bothered. There was always someone to hang with.

At any rate, Sam wasn't too happy that he wasn't gonna get to see Derek dance, so it was Ralph's job to report on it at the very least. That was, if he couldn't get video.

He walked in on some Daddy Yankee thing playing. Casey was bouncing around to it, but Derek was sitting on the floor with his back up against the wall. He was all sweaty.

"I missed it?" Ralph signed to Casey.

"Don't worry," Casey signed. "He'll do it again."

"No way," Derek signed. "She's crazy."

"Or I can dance with Ralph all night," Casey signed. Ralph grinned at Derek, but Derek only shrugged. So Casey grabbed Ralph's arm and they danced for three songs straight before Derek couldn't stand it anymore and cut in.

A couple of people stared at Derek. Ralph thought it was because he was a better dancer than they thought he'd be. And Casey was just plain hot in her little dress. Still, Ralph found himself losing interest in them after a while because there had to be a girl around. There just _had_ to.

Ralph danced once with Emily, once more with Casey, and once with Linda (who was there with Tinker Tomlin, _Go Tinker_, Ralph thought to himself) before he sat down next to a tiny little blond niner. She was drinking a soda and bopping her head to the music. She looked up at him and smiled, showing a mouthful of braces. Ralph smiled back.

"How come you're not dancing," he asked, leaning over to talk directly into her ear. She smelled like fruit punch.

"I dunno," she answered.

"Wanna?"

"Okay," she said. Her name was Amanda and during a slow song, she told him that she did Irish step dancing.

"Do you like dogs?" Ralph asked randomly.

"Yeah," she said.

That was just about all he needed to know.

Part Five: Derek.

After the dance, Derek had one thought running through his head on a loop. It was a totally inappropriate thought, mainly involving Casey and one of their not entirely darkened bedrooms. It wasn't going to happen, he knew better than to think that it was, especially with entire family so close by. Even without the fam in the house, Casey would say no. She wasn't ready.

Derek was ready. He was _always_ ready. It wasn't a secret, either, but there was not thing one he could do about that. But he would wait for her as long as she wanted him to, because he wanted _her_. He'd wanted her for pretty much ever.

But he needed to stop thinking about these things if he wanted to be able to walk. He was sitting on the cold floor in an attempt to cool off. This was why it took him almost ten minutes to cut in on Ralph and even after that, he hesitated to get too close to Casey. During the last dance of the night, he thought he'd die, but then the dance finally ended and they got to go outside in the cold air.

On the way to the car, he put his around her shoulders and she was tense as hell. He pulled back a little and played at giving her a little massage.

"Get a room," Ralph signed. _If only_, Derek thought.

Meanwhile, Casey was still stiff as a board.

"What's the matter?" he signed.

"Nothing," Casey said. She'd taken the earplugs out as the first opportunity and that had relaxed her a tiny bit. She was able to talk to people, anyway.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "Why?"

"Are you cold?"

"Yeah," she said, closing her coat. "We should go home." She waved Sheldon and Emily over and got them into the car so they could leave. Derek toyed with the idea of putting on the air conditioner. But he put the heat on, like a good little boyfriend and felt himself get hotter and hotter until he finally dumped off Schlep and watched Emily go up her driveway and into her house.

When she was out of sight, Derek turned to Casey, but before he could even think to say anything, she had his face in her hands and her tongue in his mouth. He could feel her moaning, but neither of them made any move to separate. She finally came up for air and said something but he didn't understand. She pulled him toward the house.

_This is not gonna happen,_ Derek told himself._ It's just not. Get the thought out of your head. _His mind started working on the possibilities of what Casey _might_ let him do.

They had sense enough to separate before they got the door open, and it was a good thing, too because Nora was on the couch, watching a movie. Dad was asleep, his head in her lap. The only light was coming from the TV, so Nora didn't say anything, until she leaned back and turned on the lamp.

"How was it?" she signed.

Derek shrugged. "Okay," he signed. Casey nudged him, pretending to be annoyed.

"It was awesome," she signed. "Wish I knew how he learned to dance."

Derek rolled his eyes; she was laying it on a little thick. Somebody, maybe Marti, maybe Lizzie, would have told Casey about the dance lessons. It was cool of her to pretend she didn't know, but if she hadn't found out, she never would have made him dance so much.

"I'm glad you guys had fun," Nora said.

Casey went into the kitchen to make herself some tea or something, while Derek excused himself to go upstairs. Both of them knew better than to go upstairs at the same time on a night like this.

He toyed with the idea of sitting on her bed and waiting for her, but instead just went into his own room and started to change into some pajamas, still telling himself that nothing was going to happen. Around forty five minutes later, Casey showed up at his door.

TBC.

A/N: Again, I apologize for leaving this hanging so long. And for the cliffie.


	52. Chapter 52

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Fifty-Two.

Part One: Lizzie.

Lizzie, having fallen asleep face down in Casey's copy of _Twilight_, woke up in the middle of the night and got up to go to the bathroom. Before she went back to bed, she decided she wanted some fruit punch. On the way back up the stairs, she thought she heard two very distinctive stifled laughs coming from Derek's room. In the middle of the night! If her shock hadn't made her stop and stay right at the edge of the landing, her eavesdropper Spideysense would have. It was a good thing, too, because she was two steps away from the squeaky floorboard. While they were still giggling in there, Lizzie took one teeny step, then one huge one, the way Edwin taught her, then made her way toward her room, but not before she came face to face with Casey.

Her eyes bugged, but then she whispered, "Hi Liz," like she hadn't just been caught sneaking out of Derek's room at two o'clock in the morning.

"Oh my God!"

"Lizzie!" Casey whisper-screamed.

"Oh. My. Gawd!" Lizzie whisper-screamed back. Casey grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into her , Casey's, room, shutting the door.

"Shhhh!" Casey said, like Lizzie'd been shouting all of this through a megaphone.

"You're, like, so red," Lizzie remarked. "Is that a hickey?"Casey looked down at herself and found the little red mark, just below her collarbone and had what might have been the world's quietest freakout. Really, the only person likely to wake up was Marti, Lizzie mused. Then she imagined Marti at the breakfast table, mentioning the red splotch on Casey's chest and then Lizzie understood why they didn't want to wake Marti up.

Casey scurried to her dresser and covered the tank top she had on with a big t-shirt.

"This is not funny!"

Lizzie giggled.

"I'm serious!"

"Yep," Lizzie said. "You usually are. What's all over your cheek?" She moved Casey's hair out of the way. "And your _neck_! Looks like rugburn."

Casey checked herself in her mirror and rolled her eyes, running into the bathroom and coming back smelling of Noxzema.

"_Is_ it rugburn?"

"Of course not!" Casey said. "On my _face_? What do you think—? Ugh! _No_!"

Lizzie, not quite twelve, had just assumed that Casey and Derek had done some wrestling, some playfighting in his bedroom before they'd done whatever else they'd done, and that would have explained any rugburn. She didn't know _what_ Casey was flipping out about.

"Then—"

"Derek needs a shave," Casey said, cutting her off. "This is what stubble does if it rubs against you, okay?"

"Wow," Lizzie said, checking out the slight irritation again, fascinated. There were so many things that came with having a boyfriend, and most of them she hadn't even thought of.

"Quit it!" Casey said, frantically trying to cover the marks with her hair.

"Stop worrying," Lizzie said. "It's not as obvious as the hickey."

Casey groaned. Lizzie, at this point was dying of curiosity, but could not think of how to get her sister talking. Saying "so what'd you guys do all night" would probably get her thrown out of the room, so she really needed to tread lightly.

"How was the dance?" Lizzie asked. Casey, whose nose was practically touching the mirror as she fussed, turned around and cocked an eyebrow at her sister.

"Huh?"

Lizzie shrugged, innocently as she could and was relieved when Casey laughed and sat down beside her, bouncing on the bed a little.

"It was so amazing!"she said.

"Did he dance?"

"Yeah!"

"More than once?"

"More than once!" Casey said. "I couldn't believe it!"

"Oh," Casey said, remembering something. "You didn't tell him I knew about the dance lessons, did you?"

"No," Lizzie said.

"Do you think Marti would have?"

"Nah," Lizzie said. "And we both would've killed Edwin if he had, so..."

"He couldn't have seen me watching," Casey said.

"Maybe he just figured it out?" Lizzie said. Her sister was a lot of things. Subtle was not one of them.

Casey shrugged. "I saw a girl elbow her boyfriend, like 'See? He's dancing. Why don't you?' It was so cool. And he even led a little bit."

"Then what happened?"

"I dunno. We kept dancing."

"And then?"

"We came home?" Casey said. She yawned theatrically. That was Lizzie's hint that storytime was over. She wondered what she'd have to do to get the rest of the story (because there was way more to the story, obviously). Maybe she could listen in on Casey's next phone call to Emily.

"We both have to be up early," Casey said, yawning again, because once she got started yawning, it was impossible to stop.

"Yeah," Lizzie agreed reluctantly, sliding off Casey's bed. They said their goodnights and love yous and that was that.

Part Two: Casey.

By some miracle, she kept her breathing steady and even as she talked to her Mom. Derek stood right next to her, looking pretty calm, but he excused himself pretty quickly.

Casey went into the kitchen, gulped a lot of cold water, then forced herself to make some chamomile tea. She sat at the table and ate a few cookies, watching the tail end of _Arsenic and Old Lace_ with her mother while George snored in the background. Then, she went upstairs, changed, washed her face and went over to Derek's room.

_Betcha he's asleep you idiot,_ Casey thought. _Waited too long._

But he was awake, sprawled out on his bed. Seeing the movement from the corner of his eye, he turned to look at her before she could even flick his light switch. He waved. She waved back. Then, he waved again and she waved back.

"Can I come in?" she signed. Derek nodded and got off his bed so fast that he took half his comforter with him. He met her halfway, taking her face in his hands and kissing first her mouth, then her jaw, then working his way down her neck. Casey, for her part, didn't realize what her own hands were doing until she realized that she was hiking his t-shirt up a little bit and that he was really ticklish. He grabbed at her hands, trying to stop her, but she refused to quit until they ended up trying to pin each other on the bed. His hands accidentally (_yeah right,_ she thought) brushed her breasts a few times. Then he rested one hand on one breast, looking at her questioningly until she nodded an okay. It didn't take long for both shirts to come off. Then, again waiting for permission, he fiddled with her bra until she helped him unhook it.

He stared at her for a while, until she worried that he'd noticed that one breast was the tiniest bit bigger than the other.

_He thinks I'm some kind of freak_, she thought, reaching for something to cover herself up. He grabbed her hand, then let go long enough to sign "I can die now."

"Idiot!" she signed. He pretended to keel over in bed. She leaned over and started the kissing again. Up close, she could actually see a little bit of hair on his chest. It, like his eyelashes and the little bit of beard stubble that would mark her up and later catch Lizzie's interest so thoroughly, was almost blond and only showed up when the light hit it a certain way.

It was really difficult to stop doing what they were doing, probably the hardest thing she could remember doing in years, but they eventually did have to stop. She was fifteen, and pretty sure that she wasn't ready. She thought "pretty sure" because her resolve had been weakening quite a bit. She could picture it happening. With him. Soon.

But even before she heard the toilet flushing and floorboards creaking she sensed that somebody was awake, reminding her that they weren't alone in the house.

She pulled back from him and signed as much to Derek and that had the effect of a bucket of cold water on both of them. Derek nodded, sitting up a little, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna go to bed," she mouthed, dressing quickly. He nodded.

He signed something that she didn't understand at first, something that looked like "HUNGRY YOU CAN STAY."

He caught the confusion on her face even before she signed that she didn't understand. "Wish," he said, signing again. It was pretty much the same sign as "hungry", the cupped hand going down from throat to stomach. The worst part was that she totally knew that sign. Of _course_ she did. She smacked her forehead. Her next ASL final was coming up, too. What would she do if she still got mixed up so easily?

"I love you."

"I love you too," she signed, then shut the door behind herself, running almost smack into Lizzie. Having Lizzie look at her with such interest managed to cool her off the rest of the way. It was hard to think about sex while her eleven year old sister was giving her the "So? Whatcha been upto?" look.

After Lizzie went to bed, Casey went to her window, opening it and stared out at the nothing that was going on this time of night. She needed the cold air for a minute or two because her room felt almost unbearably hot since she'd gotten back from Derek's room. If she poked her head out the window and craned it to the left, she could see the street, but straight ahead, the only thing to look at was the Davis house. The street was deserted of course, street lights glowing through some trees that were finally budding. She made a mental note to remind George that there was still a string of lights in the tree nearest this window.

She looked at her alarm clock. It was 3:00 already. Her chances of making it to dance class in the morning didn't look good, but she would have to drag her butt out of bed to go to ASL because, again, the final was looming.

She shut the window and climbed into bed, closing her eyes, thinking she'd never sleep again. She opened them again around 11:00.

Part Three: Derek.

Derek also slept late, and had the distinct feeling that the house was empty when he got up. When he saw Casey's door open, he peeked and saw her still in bed, her back to him.

"Case," he said. She didn't stir. Deciding to let her sleep, he went downstairs to see if there were any frozen waffles left. When he came downstairs, he saw Edwin, who sprawled across the couch in his pajamas, remote in hand. Ed looked up as he heard Derek come down.

"Everybody gone?" he signed.

"Yes," Edwin signed. "Shopping. Classes. Playdate." Derek nodded.

Then Edwin wanted to know why Derek's mouth was all swollen. He was just being an ass. It wasn't _that_ swollen. He'd checked.

"Shut up," Derek signed. Edwin grinned.

"You step all over Casey's feet?" Edwin signed. "That why she skipped dance class?"

Derek took a pillow out from under his brother and hit him with it. This, of course, led to a pillow fight, which led to the both of them cleaning up broken light bulb, because they knocked over a lamp. Thankfully, the lamp itself didn't bust, just the bulb. Derek was just washing his hands, after sweeping and mopping up all the broken bulb bits, when he noticed Edwin looking up and talking to someone in the doorway. He turned to see Casey standing there.

"I was awake," she signed. "You didn't wake me up. But you were loud."

"Oops," Derek said. "Sorry."

"You're not sorry," Casey said. Because he really wasn't.

"Least I'm not playing hooky," Derek said. "Hooky player." Casey blushed. Then she turned to Edwin and told him to shut up. Derek looked at her to find out what Edwin had just said behind his back.

"He's laughing at me," she signed.

"Only I get to laugh at her," Derek said.

"Since when?" Edwin asked.

Before Derek could answer, Casey whacked Edwin over the head with the box of frozen waffles. Edwin protested and Casey said something wiseass back to him. Derek stared at her, wide-eyed.

"What?" she asked.

"Marry me?" he asked. She rolled her eyes. He got down on his knees and looked up at her.

"I have never been more in love with you," he signed. She crouched down with him, gave him a little peck on the mouth, then wrinkled her nose.

"Brush your teeth and ask again," she signed. Derek, groaned, collapsing on the floor and playing dead for a second. He toyed with grabbing her ankle as she stepped over him, but thought better of it. She was clumsy enough as it was.

After they ate the waffles (and some eggs, sausage and a couple of cupcakes), Casey had to excuse herself to get ready to go to her other class.

"You disgust me," Derek signed. "You..._student_."

"ASL," she reminded him.

He reminded her that she was pretty fluent at this point. Sure she made a few mistakes here and there, but she signed every day and because of that, he was pretty sure she was at a higher level than the rest of the class she was in.

"It takes years to be fluent," Casey signed.

"You've already blown off one class," he said. "What's one more?"

"I have to go," she signed.

"No you don't," Derek signed, moving a little closer to her. "Live a little. Break a rule."

"The test is coming," she signed. "I need to practice."

"What are you doing right now?"Derek signed. "Ed and Smarti never took classes. Look how good they are."

"De-_rek_!"

He rolled his eyes. "You need a ride?" Edwin made whipcracking gestures. The boy really should know better than to do things like that within Derek's field of vision.

"Just for that, you're doing the dishes," Derek said, draping a dishtowel over the kid's head on the way out of the kitchen.

Derek followed her upstairs. When they got to the top, he tried to get her to kiss him, even though he had still not brushed his teeth.

"I need to shower," she said.

"Me too," he said, grinning.

"Dream on," she signed.

"But, we'd be saving water!" he teased. "It's green! You don't want to help the environment? Wait'll I tell Lizzie you're a water waster!"

Casey laughed and gave him a little shove toward his door. "I could tell George what a horndog you are."

"Like it's a secret?"

"He might start sleeping in the hallway," she said. "Or make you sleep in Edwin's room."

She had a point, he had to admit.

So that's how Derek ended up chauffeuring her to and from class and then to rent movies, the image of Edwin cracking the whip still running through his mind.

As she climbed back into the passenger seat, he grabbed her bag of DVDs and looked through them, groaning in advance of what had to be a night of rom-com hell.

"_The Client_?" Derek asked. "_Saving Private Ryan_?"

"And _Secret Window_," she said. "You wanted to see that, right?"

"Yeah," Derek said. "Why are you getting movies that I wanna see?"

"I wanna see it, too," she said. "Johnny Depp is hot." Derek frowned, and forgot, for a second that he wanted to know what was up with the other movies. Then he remembered.

"What about these?" he said, holding up the other two.

"Your Dad likes them," she said.

"Trying to butter him up for some reason?" he asked. Casey blushed.

"Maybe."

"Wow," he said. "I really am a bad influence."

"I just wanna talk to him," she said. "And it's important."

"Why not just say, 'I wanna talk to you,'"

"I wanna ask him something and he might not go for it," she said.

"Bribery," Derek said. "I like it."

"Then you'll help?"

"No."

"De-rek!"

"There's only so much I can get away with per year," Derek said. "I'm getting pretty near my quota."

"It's only April," Casey said.

"So you see why I need to be conservative," Derek said.

"It's important," she signed. She left it at that, didn't even try to manipulate him with her big, sad eyes.

"What is it?"

She told him about that girl, Cindy, who was getting kicked out for the locker prank. Casey didn't want _anyone_ kicked out of school on her account. It was bad karma, she told him.

"Do you even remember what she did?" Derek asked. "Do you remember that day at all?" Somehow, he didn't think she did. He, for one, would probably not be forgetting how she bounced around the breakfast table in a really good mood, and then, not half an hour later, the look of devastation on her face when she saw the doll attached to her locker. If it had been done to him, he would have laughed and found a way to make a mascot out of the thing, but it had been done to Casey, who cried over absolutely everything. This was not something easily forgiven.

"Believe me," she said. "I remember."

"Then what are you thinking?"

She was trying to be the bigger person, she said. When he scoffed, she brought up some of the stuff that _he'd_ pulled and asked him if he'd always thought of other people's feelings when he'd pranked them. She wanted to know if he'd ever pulled a prank that could possibly have gotten out of hand if his luck had gone another way. Of _course_, he had, so next thing he knew, he was agreeing to back her up.

"What's the plan?"

"First," she signed. "Ask George if he can do anything." Maybe he'd had cases like this before, she said. She didn't know what the process was for expelling someone. "I'll check Google before I ask G. though..."

Derek fought the mental image of Hermione Granger going into the restricted section of the library.

"What's funny?" she signed.

"Nothing."

She looked at him suspiciously, but started to brainstorm. Out loud. After a while, Derek started to drift, more interested in her actual mouth than what was coming out of it.

She nudged him. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, making her roll her eyes.

"You're not paying attention at all, are you?"

"Sure I am," he said. He was paying really close attention to the couple of hairs that had gotten caught in her lipgloss earlier and that were, at that moment, stuck to her neck. He was paying attention to her mouth and the way her throat worked and thinking about how he wanted to touch it, maybe even give her another hickey.

She flapped a hand at him, signing "Hey!"

"Up here," she said, when he looked up. Then, she sighed, puffing air out of her cheeks. "I guess we can talk about this later."

Derek nodded, taking the opportunity to go in for the kiss. Casey obliged, giggling a little, the vibration hitting his own mouth,along with the little puffs of air from her nose, both of which only served to make him hot. He felt her try to say something else and when she was finally able to pull away and move her hands up.

She asked about his PDA rule. He looked around and remembered that they were in the parking lot of a strip mall and not only that, but there was some little girl watching them. He smiled at her; she waved. He started the car before he could embarrass himself further.

Part Four: Nora.

"Are you kidding me?" Nora squeaked, overhearing what her oldest daughter had just asked George.

"Mom."

"No!" Nora said. "This...this..."

"It's admirable," George began.

"Yeah," Nora agreed. "Admirable. Sure. But this is the real world, Casey, honey. This is not like that story about the mouse taking the thorn out of the lion's paw. Chances are, this kid is not going to appreciate you trying to help her."

"I'm not doing it for _her_," Casey said.

"Good, because she won't do _anything_ for you, believe you me," Nora said.

"Maybe it might be something to look into, though," George said.

"Come again?" Nora asked.

"Hear me out," George said. For Derek's benefit, he held up a hand, pointing to the index finger, indicating he was going to make a few points. She felt horrible about this, but she'd just about forgotten that Derek was in the room with them; he'd been so quiet standing there up against the dresser, doing little besides turning to look at whoever was talking. Nora, in what she thought had to be an ongoing effort to be the worst stepmother ever, had even been pacing the room. She caught his eye, staring at him apologetically and sat down on her bed. He shrugged.

"One," George began, clumsily sim-comming. "People get suspended for vandalism, not expelled."

"No," Nora said. "You get expelled for _bullying_. Zero tolerance." Finding herself at a total loss for signs, she had to fingerspell "bullying" and "tolerance."

"Mom," Casey said.

"You can't let people bully you, Casey," Nora said. "This girl can't get away with it."

"So they should suspend her," Casey said. Derek nudged her. He was missing things. Casey filled him in. Nora already felt guilty for not being a better signer. If she were, they probably wouldn't be having this conversation in English. Not at this point. It was amazing how both Casey and Lizzie's skills had surpassed her own so quickly.

"Sorry Derek," Nora signed. Derek shrugged like it was no big deal.

"It's okay."

"No it's not," Nora said.

"This sets a precedent," George said, spelling out "precedent."

"It should," Nora signed.

"The wrong kind," George continued. "Lassiter's coming down too hard on her for the wrong reasons." George guessed that the man just didn't want to look like a wuss in front of the school board.

Derek snorted.

"But I didn't say that," George said, pointedly.

"Say what?" Derek said. "I didn't hear anything."

George rolled his eyes.

"What else?" Casey signed, trying to steer them back on track.

"Don't know," George signed. "Except that you would have the power now."

Casey nodded.

"You could let this girl hang," George signed.

Casey nodded again. Derek looked fatalistic.

"It might all be for nothing," George warned her.

"I know," Casey said. "I still wanna do it."

Everybody looked at Derek expectantly.

"What?" he asked.

"What do _you_ think of all this?"George wanted to know.

"I think that anything I say can and will be used against me, _ow!_"he said, rubbing his arm after Casey whacked him.

"Be serious!" Casey said.

"You know what I think," he told her. "I think you're nuts."

_Well, finally_, Nora thought. _Someone agrees with me._

"But I'm in," he said. "I said I had your back."

_Oh great_, Nora thought.

After the kids went back upstairs, George turned to Nora and shook his head.

"You have a helluva kid there, Nora," he said.

"I could say the same thing about yours," she said.

"Guess I have a little work to do," he said. "Not that I think it'll get far. Even if Casey can round up the girl's contact info, her parents will most likely tell me to go to hell before I can get a full sentence out."

"Yeah," Nora said. Truth be told, she hoped that was what would happen. Then it would be over and they'd all be able to move on to the next bit of drama.

"Ed-_win_!" Nora heard Lizzie yelp, right on cue, from the kitchen.

"Should we go check on that?" George asked, looking up at the ceiling.

Something crashed.

"Nah," Nora said.

Part Five: Edwin.

A popsicle from the back of the fridge tumbled into view when Edwin pulled out an ice tray. There was no question about whether it was edible. Edwin couldn't even tell what color it had been; it was now a shade of purplish blue-gray with a crunchy/sparkly coat of ice over the top of it. So there would be no eating it, but maybe, he thought, just maybe, some fun could still be had with it.

Touching it to the back of Lizzie's neck had seemed like the best idea ever. Her hair was in two perfect, neat little braids and she had one of those zig-zaggy parts going down the back of her head. And there was her neck, all unprotected. Edwin could not be expected to pass up such an opportunity.

"Ed-_win_!"

Then, next thing he knew, they were wrestling, the ice pop between them. Then Lizzie knocked into the chair and they both went down with it.

"Oh my God," Edwin said. "Are you okay?"

Lizzie took a couple of breaths, checked herself and said that she was. Then pinned him to the floor sitting on him. He looked up and saw an upside down Marti, who had barely looked up from her cupcake to see what they were doing, but now she seemed pretty interested.

"Are you two gonna kiss?" she asked. The two of them separated so fast that they knocked the other chair down.

"What are you guys _doing_?" Casey asked.

"Nothing!" both Ed and Lizzie said, his voice going up high enough to match hers.

Casey shook her head at them, but then noticed Marti. "How do you like that cupcake, Marti?"

"It's awesome!" Marti said. Awesome was her new word. Things were generally awesome in Martiville.

"So that means you've gotten some of it into your actual _mouth_, then, huh?" Casey said. Marti stuck her tongue out. There was a good amount of vanilla frosting all over her face, less than usual, but still a lot.

"Ew," Casey said. "Looks like you have." She righted one of the chairs and Edwin picked up the other.

"So, Liz," Casey asked. She nodded toward Edwin. "What'd he do?"

"Put a popsicle to the back of my neck," Lizzie said.

Casey nodded. She looked around and found the now slightly lopsided and melting pop on the floor under the table. She picked it up and handed it to Lizzie, who nodded and went after Edwin with it. Edwin ran, but Lizzie catching him was an inevitability. She caught him by the belt and smooshed the rapidly melting mystery goo down the back of his pants.

So that meant that he had no choice but to switch her lip balm with glue stick. Not the super glue, but the plain old arts and crafts kind that wouldn't cause any actual harm, but would probably taste horrible.

The next morning, he found a toy mouse in his underwear drawer. The thing was furry and just realistic enough to make him yelp until he realized that it wasn't moving.

He poked it a couple of times, just to make sure it wasn't real, wondering if Lizzie would have put a dead mouse in his dresser or maybe even a live one that died in the night. But one more poke revealed a little tag that said _Made in China_ and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Of course, this meant war. He went to see his top military advisor.

"I'm not involved," Derek signed.

"I need your help," Edwin signed, giving him his best puppy face. Hell, it worked when Marti did it.

"Not my problem."

"But Lizzie put a mouse in my drawers," Edwin signed.

"Yeah," Derek signed. "Full of catnip, you loser. And you fell for it."

"It looked real," Edwin signed. "You would have fallen for it, too." Derek was just as skeeved by mice as Edwin was. He really should have understood.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Plastic spiders?"

"She's not afraid of spiders," Edwin signed. "Roaches either."

"Evil clown?" Derek signed.

Edwin grinned.

"That's why you're my favorite brother," Edwin signed, then held his arms out for a hug, which Derek mostly passed up, opting to mess up his little brother's hair instead.

Part Six: Lizzie.

"I'm not helping," Derek signed.

"But you're my brother," she signed, giving him the biggest eyes she could manage without them actually popping out of her head.

"You think that's gonna work with me?"

"It works when Marti does it."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Please, why should I help you? You have no talent for this. If you had, you would have pretended that glue stick really glued your lips together and that you had to go to the hospital to get your mouth open again."

"Dangit," she muttered. That was really good. Why hadn't she thought of it?

"That's why I need your help," Lizzie signed. "Casey's no good at this. It's an important skill and you can't let me grow up without knowing all I need to know, can you?"

"What kind of teacher would I be if I didn't let you figure it out for yourself?" Derek signed.

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Lizzie said to his back as he went downstairs.

So she went to Casey, who suggested she let it go.

Well, that just wasn't going to happen. Still, she remained at a loss and ended up spending the next few days shaking out her shoes and checking the toilet for booby traps.

The longer nothing happened, the more she was on her guard, which was probably what Edwin wanted. But she was sure that the second she let her guard down he would get her. That said, after a week, Lizzie inevitably started to relax. She didn't forget about the possibility of a prank, she just began to forget how good Edwin was at it, to underestimate his powers.

He got her on a Saturday night. Mom and George were out to dinner and Casey was with Emily. Derek, Sam, and Ralph watched the movie _IT_ in the living room. Lizzie asked what it was about and Sam gave her the breakdown: "There's this monster in this little town in Maine and it eats little kids," he said, taking a mouthful of popcorn. "Hides in sewers. Comes out of drains and stuff. And sometimes it looks like a big ole clown."

"And you _wanna_ watch this?"Lizzie asked.

"Yeah," Ralph piped up. "It's awesome!"

"Oookay," Lizzie said, making Sam laugh.

"Yeah," Sam said. "We were gonna watch it at my house, but my sisters took one look at the box—" He held it up, showing Lizzie the single creepiest clown in the history of the world. "They threw us out."

"Smart girls," Lizzie said.

"Good night," she signed. Derek waved.

"Later," Ralph said.

"Night," Sam said.

So Lizzie went upstairs to do the usual before bed stuff: washing her face, brushing her teeth and such, but this time she stopped and looked at the drain in the sink. She'd seen the odd centipede come up out of there, and those freaked Casey out like nobody's business, but otherwise, it didn't freak her out. She shrugged and headed back to her room so she could finish her book.

As she turned down her bed, she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Thinking it was Marti, she turned and started to ask what she was still doing up, but screamed instead, startled because there was a clown sitting on her windowsill. It grinned at her, showing a set of fangs.,

"That wath awesthome!" it said, laughing and clapping its hands. Then she realized that it was about her height and had a zit coming up on its forehead, a little bit of black curly hair coming out from under it's skullcap.

She'd backed into the corner of her nightstand and her eyes watered a little from the shock and the pain. Suddenly she found herself breathing fast, with her eyes wide so they'd water more. There was no time to really plan this, but she committed with everything she had.

"Lizzie," Edwin said, taking the baldcap with the little orange sprigs of hair off of his head. She did her best to whimper and back into the corner, curling into a little ball.

"Lizzie," Edwin repeated, looking concerned.

"What's going on?" Sam wanted to know as he popped his head in. He took one look at Edwin and said "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I think something's happening here," Edwin said as Lizzie shook. "Liz."

"GET AWAY!" she bellowed.

Ralph and Derek were close behind Sam. She peeked at them from behind her fingers and it was something in Ralph's face that gave the game away. They were _all_ in on it. So she'd get them all.

She crawled under her bed, still screaming, really laying it on thick and they seemed to be buying it. Then, Derek peeked his head under there and cocked an eyebrow at her. She winked. He winked back, and pulled her out from under there, pretending to hold her close and soothe her as she struggled in his arms.

"Ed," Derek said. "Put your coat on. We're going to the Emergency room."

"Are you serious?" Edwin asked.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked. "You are so gonna need a doctor."

"But it was just a..." Edwin began. "Wait...what?"

Lizzie took the opportunity to stop kicking and writhing and look him in the eye.

"She's gonna beat the hell outta you," Derek said. "If I were you I'd run."

Lizzie got up and lunged at Edwin, who ran. Sam started doing the "I'm not worthy" move

"What just happened?" Ralph asked.

Part Seven: George.

George told himself that it would not do to laugh at Casey while she lectured Lizzie and Edwin in a disturbingly Nora-esque way. Derek sat down at the kitchen table next to him as they both watched Casey pace back and forth and yell.

"What did they do?" George signed. Derek immediately grinned and started signing about pranks involving clowns with fangs and that Lizzie was officially one of them now.

"You should have seen it," Derek signed.

"Casey's not happy," George signed.

"She'll cool off," Derek signed.

"She says she's tired of pranks," George signed.

Derek nodded.

"They do more harm than good, she says," George signed. It broke his heart a little to think so, but George thought that maybe there should be a moratorium on pranks in their house, at least for a while. Casey did have a point about how they had a way of escalating and how the pranker never knew how the prankee would react.

And, really, if anyone had reason to be sick of practical jokes, it was Casey. George had to agree with her a little even if he really did want to crown Lizzie the new Princess of Prankiosity.

Casey gave Liz and Ed chapter and verse about the expulsion she still wanted George to try to stop. As yet, he hadn't gotten anywhere. Deborah Connors, the girl's mother, had hung up on him and Lassiter still hadn't answered his emails.

Casey, who got antsier as time passed, was thinking of planning a protest, which meant that he and Nora would have to find a way to talk her out of it before Monday. He'd already asked Derek to make sure Casey didn't send out any mass emails.

"What's she saying now?" Derek asked.

"She's trying to make Ed feel guilty," George signed. "Asking why he's being so mean to Liz."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You're kidding."

George shook his head.

"Oh come on, Case," Edwin said, George translated for Derek. "I'm not being mean, Jeez! I don't prank anyone I don't like! That's, like, rule number two of pranking!"

"What's rule number one?" Casey wanted to know.

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it," Lizzie filled in. "Duh!"

Derek had a photographable look of pride on his face. Too bad George didn't know where he'd left the camera.

In the living room, Casey rubbed her forehead. "Listen," she said. "I get that you guys don't mean any harm, but this pranking stuff really stresses me out, okay? So can you please stop? For me? Okay?"

It seemed to George that the two of them had had their fill of pranks anyway, but at being told to quit it, Edwin looked the teeniest bit irritated (the Venturi genes were acting up) but, since it was Casey, the Russo genes from Abby's side won out and he promised to stop. Lizzie, of course, promised,too.

"She can be pretty persuasive, huh?" George signed.

"You have no idea," Derek signed.

"Think she'll give up on this expulsion thing?"

Derek sighed. "No."

George nodded. Later that night, he had a brainwave (Okay, it was Nora's idea) and tried to get a message to Mrs. Connors on Facebook. On there, the woman was able to see that he was on the up and up.

_Mrs. Connors_, he wrote. _I'm George Venturi, father to Derek and stepfather to Casey McDonald. Upon hearing of your daughter's expulsion, Casey's implored me to speak to you about your options. As you can see, I'm a lawyer, and active in the community. As such, I want to make sure that your daughter, as well as all students at Sparrow High, get the fairest possible treatment. If you're interested, I can talk to you about possibly appealing the expulsion to get Cindy back to class with her friends as soon as we can... _

It took a couple of days, but she got back to him:

_Mr. Venturi_, she wrote. _While I have no idea why you would want to take on our case, I do want to thank you. You have some remarkable kids; I hope you're aware. However, my husband and I have no plans to appeal the expulsion. We feel that Cindy needs to understand that her actions have consequences. We feel that she also could use a fresh start, and, as such, have found a new environment for her..._

"That's it?" Casey asked when George showed her the message.

"I guess so," he said.

"But...but..." she said. "Arrrrggghhh!" She threw up her hands in frustration. George caught Derek's eye. Derek shrugged.

"I just can't believe it," Casey ranted. "Doesn't she know what's best..."

"Sweetie," Nora broke in. "Do you really want this girl back in class with you?"She was doing her best to sign this time, having beaten herself up for the umpteenth time for forgetting her manners last time they'd had a family meeting.

Casey glared. "That's beside the point."

"Yeah, okay," Nora signed. "Could it be that you got a little carried away—um..."

"Fighting the power?" George supplied, sim-comming again. Derek snickered and Casey glared at him.

"Later, you'll think it's funny," Derek promised her. "Trust me."

"Thank you," Nora signed. "Fight the power. Yes. Perfect."

"Stick it to the Man," Derek said. Casey narrowed her eyes, but they could all see her mouth twitching.

"Power to the People," Derek went back to signing. Casey pressed her lips together.

"I am the Walrus," Derek signed, finally cracking her up.

"Derek," George signed. "Do you think Casey shouldn't...be the walrus?" He couldn't resist.

"No," Derek signed, mock seriously. "It's her job to obey!" She rolled her eyes and gave him a little shove. George secretly thought that she should be grateful that Derek didn't make any jokes about her having a walrus mustache or something. It's what Derek would've said even a couple of months before.

"Obey who?" Casey asked. Derek pointed to himself, grinning. She laughed harder.

"Case," George said when she'd calmed down a little. She turned, then Derek followed suit. George signed, "It's good to want to protest something that you think is wrong. You know me; I'm the first to take a stand. It's something I tried to teach all of my kids."

"And now me and Liz," Casey signed.

"I meant you, too," George signed. Derek blew air out of his cheeks, probably afraid that things were about to get gooey. And he was right to be afraid, because Casey did get gooey, as did Nora, and gooey McDonald women were group-huggy McDonald women.

"Get used to it," George signed to Derek when the hug broke up.


	53. Chapter 53

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Fifty-Three.

Part One: Derek.

Casey was working on some kind of top-secret ASL project that she would not let him know about. Even tickling didn't get her to spill her guts.

"Tell me" he signed.

She shook her head.

"You know you want to tell me," he signed. "You can't keep a secret. You're bursting to tell me."

"Says you."

"What's the title?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she signed.

"It's a song, right?" he signed. "It's always a song." She pretended to be interested in the cartoons Marti was watching.

Both Sam and Ralph had been made to sign a song at least once. Ralph had been his typical Ralphy self, going with The White Stripes' "Hello Operator," which Derek found out didn't really have a lot of lyrics (Ralph was smarter than he looked.) Sam had ended up with a song called "Save Tonight." This was back around grade six, and when their English teacher had gotten wind of it, they'd both been asked to do the songs in school, too. Teachers always ate this stuff up, and, so did grade six girls. Ralph knew this, but Sam had been so embarrassed and uptight about it that Derek still teased him years later.

Come to think of it, maybe that was why Casey wouldn't tell him anything, because Sam told her the story. But Casey had to know that he wouldn't tease her...more than usual.

He wanted to let it go. He knew he'd find out eventually, but he still wasn't the most patient of creatures. Even the fact that he had work to do of his own, planning something for Casey's birthday, for example. That should have kept him occupied, especially since he only had a few weeks.

But it was like he just had to know what she was up to.

Part Two: Casey.

It was a song. Pretty much the only reason she wouldn't tell Derek was that she kept changing her mind. Sheldon said she'd probably change her mind right until the day of her final. He said that at the end of a really long brainstorming session at his place.

Sheldon, after a while, had taken to suggesting songs with the word "crazy" in the title. "Crazy," "Crazy for You" "(You Drive Me) Crazy." Up till that point, Casey hadn't realized there were so many of those, but it seemed like he'd tossed every possible one her way.

"Trying to say something, Schlep?" Casey said.

"Was that too subtle for you?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Point taken," she said. "I think we have a shortlist."

"A _shortlist_," Sheldon said to Emily.

"You do the same thing," Emily said.

"I do not."

"Case? Ask Sheldon about how he decides on a Karaoke song," Emily said. Sheldon continued to deny all knowledge of what she was talking about, but Casey, who'd been putting her laptop away, paused and sat down again.

"Do tell," she said.

"He starts out slow. Last time, he was all 'Babe? Is this a Linkin Park kind of a day? Or Matchbox Twenty?'"

"Em," Sheldon said.

"So I said, 'Go with the Matchbox,' and he said, 'Ooh! They have Jason Mraz!' And then he found the Led Zeppelin and three hours later, as the manager's trying to kick us out..."

Casey giggled.

"Why _do_ you put up with me?" Sheldon asked, drily.

"Cuz you're good in bed," Emily deadpanned. Casey catapulted off the couch.

"What?" she squeaked.

"I'm kidding," Emily said.

"Hey!" Sheldon said.

"He's _great_ in bed," Emily clarified.

"Thank you," Sheldon said.

"I'm going home now," Casey said, her face getting hot. She zipped her bag hastily, getting some papers stuck in the zipper, but that hardly mattered, nor did the fact that she buttoned her coat wrong and skidded on the floor in the foyer. Based on their mingled laughter, Casey assumed that they were most likely just messing with her, but the mental image was not something that Casey wanted stored in her long-term memory if she could avoid it.

On the way home, she put on her headphones and tried to concentrate on the songs she'd been leaning toward.

She really wanted to do Rilo Kiley's "I Never" for example, but decided that she might have to rule it out because repeating the sign for "never," which looked like drawing a question mark with an open hand, would look awkward, like swatting a really energetic fly or conducting an orchestra that refused to pay attention. So that was out.

Then there was that old song, "Truly, Madly, Deeply." Sappy as it was, she'd always loved it and thought it would look good signed. But Derek would mock her endlessly. So that one was out, too.

It took several days of bouncing back and forth between songs before she settled on one. And it was one that she really should have thought of right away.

Then the real work began.

Part Three: Emily.

She had been kidding about her and Sheldon, for the record. She shouldn't have done it, but it was just so much fun when Casey got all buggy-eyed.

"Did you see that?" Sheldon asked, after Casey had gone.

"Yep," Emily said. "Who knew she could run so fast?"

"Still," Sheldon said. "I feel really bad lying to her like that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he said. "I pride myself on my integrity, Squirrel. I don't like to be party to an untruth."

"So you're _not_ good in bed?"

"I didn't say that," he said. "I just think that for you to say that I am, in fact, good in bed is pure speculation on your part at this point in time."

"Get to the point, Sandy Cohen."

"For you to say what you said without knowing for sure that it is true is _patently unethical_," he began. "And to remedy this, the only thing would be for me to be allowed to prove just how good in bed I really am, so that the next time the subject comes up, you'd be able to swear under oath..." She giggled, making him go on for a little bit, throwing in a heretofore here and an inasmuch there, until she'd curled into a ball on the rug next to him, holding her sides.

Finally, she put her hand over his mouth. "I think I'm ready to render judgment."

"Hmm," he said, when she took her hand away. "I didn't even get to make my closing argument. That can't be a good sign. Can I appeal?" He kissed the inside of her wrist.

"You can try," she said.

"Would you like to know how I plead?"

"On your knees?"

"Ooh, kinky," he said. She hit him with a throw pillow.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked. "You never talk like this."

"My filter's off," he said.

"No kidding," she said. She kind of liked it, actually.

"It's what happens when I spend long periods of time working with your friend Persnickety McGee."

"Then the three of us should hang out more often," Emily teased. "Or better yet, we could get Derek on board, then double date!"

Sheldon's forehead wrinkled. "How bout not?"

"Why?"

"Because I like it when it's just you and me," Sheldon said, leaning in to kiss her.

Part Three: Marti.

Smerek was funny. He was running around trying to find something to surprise Casey for her birthday when she kept saying she didn't like to be surprised. And she was trying to surprise him with that song by that guy with the really deep voice, but he didn't wanna wait to be surprised either. Marti, Edwin and Lizzie were having the best time watching them.

Casey wouldn't let anyone in the house see her practice, because she thought they'd tell, but Marti'd heard the song playing on her radio and even heard Casey sing the song around the house and Casey had no idea.

(Hehe!)

And Marti could totally tell Derek what he wanted to know and Casey what she wanted to know but what fun would that be? It was like really early on Christmas when Marti and Edwin went hunting for presents. They mostly wanted to know that they were there, that Santa came. They could wait till the 'rents got up to actually open them. And that was why she knew that Smerek didn't really want to know what song Casey was doing. It was just fun to try to get Casey to slip up.

And he liked to tickle her.

Casey was a little different. She _wanted_ to know stuff. She liked little surprises, like when Smerek gave her flowers that time, but she didn't like it when it seemed like Smerek was really up to something.

Marti didn't get tired of it, even after Lizzie and Edwin did.

It was kinda funny when Liz and Ed got sick of watching at the same time and went off to play video games together, and Marti sat on the window seat and watched _them_ for a while.

Part Four: Edwin.

Early on the Saturday morning before Casey's birthday, Edwin caught Derek typing furiously at his computer.

Ed had been on his way back from the bathroom and heard the sound of angry tippity-tapping, so he stopped and peeked into Derek's room just in time to see him flip the bird at his monitor.

When Derek looked up, Edwin signed "What's your problem?"

"Relay call," Derek signed.

"Someone hang up on you?"

"Three times," Derek signed. It happened every so often. Whenever Derek made a phone call to someone he couldn't text, he had to use a relay service where he typed whatever he wanted to say and an operator spoke for him. It worked perfectly well when he wanted to order takeout, but some people still hung up on him because they thought he was a telemarketer.

"Who was it?"

"Books, Inc.," Derek signed. "Their website's down, so I tried to call, but they suck, so I guess I'm going to Barnes and Noble."

Edwin nodded.

"Wanna come?" Edwin shrugged, went upstairs to change out of his usually Saturday morning uniform (sweatpants, t-shirt with corn flakes stuck to the collar) into something more presentable.

He didn't have to ask Derek what he was looking for. Casey's birthday was on Wednesday.

Derek said that he usually did his best work under pressure, and he looked pretty darn pressured. Edwin predicted that he'd end up doing his fair share of interpreting in exchange for the trip to the mall. Derek was all about independence but he was also running out of time.

_I'd better get some pizza out of this_, Edwin thought as he climbed into the Prince.

After rejecting the journals, games, CDs and little wooden artist models (Edwin could never resist playing with the articulated wooden hand.) Derek seemed to be at a loss.

"Gift card?"

"She would kick my ass if I gave her a gift card," Derek signed. Then he picked up a box of magnetic poetry, made a "meh" face and put it back down.

"Jewelry?" Derek signed, after he put down a large, heavy looking bookend.

They went to the kiosk near the furniture store first. Edwin picked up a huge cross and dropped it, pretending that it burned him. The girl behind the counter laughed, and seeing an opportunity, he winked at her. Derek rolled his eyes; Edwin, convinced that his older brother was just jealous, (not everybody could be as charming, as ruggedly handsome as Ed, after all), raised an eyebrow.

"So, what's your name?" Edwin asked.

"Brianna," the girl said, smiling at him.

"I'm Edwin," he said. "I wonder if you could help me with something,"

"What's that?"

"I seem to have lost my number..."

"And you wanna borrow mine?" she asked, just going with it.

"You see?" Edwin said, impressed. "You're reading my mind! We're on the same wavelength. We have a real connection, here, you and me!"

"Uh, yeah," she said.

"Too much?" Edwin asked.

"Just a little," she said. "But you're really cute. You're gonna be so much trouble in a couple of years."

"So they tell me," Edwin said. He turned to Derek, who was shaking his head at him. But Edwin could tell he wanted to laugh.

"I'm awesome," Edwin signed. "She said I'm cute."

"Awesome," Derek signed a little bigger than Edwin had, making it look sarcastic. Then he made a twisting motion with his thumb and forefinger at the space between his eyes, calling him a nerd, but then making a move to mess up his hair, which Ed dodged expertly.

"This is my stalker," Edwin said, making the sign for "creep" so that Derek would move to smack him again. This was how they showed affection.

"Ignore my little brother," Derek said. "I always do."

Brianna nodded at him, wide eyed.

"It's my girlfriend's birthday this week," Derek said, when it became clear that Brianna was just going to stare at him and not say anything. "And I was hoping to find something here."

"Um, sure," Brianna said. "Sure. I might have just the thing." She reached under the counter and pulled out some bracelets and some necklaces. They were engraved.

"We have Shakespeare," she said, showing Derek a few necklaces, then she pulled out a tray of bracelets.

"This one has a Helen Keller quote," Brianna chirped. Edwin looked over Derek's shoulder. It had Braille on it, too. Derek smiled and asked what else she had.

Three stores and one more kiosk later, Derek had what he needed for Casey. They climbed back into the Prince exhausted.

Before he put the key in the ignition, Derek turned to Edwin.

"Braille?" he signed. Edwin laughed. Edwin hadn't thought it was that funny at the time. He'd heard too many stories of Deaf people being given Braille menus in restaurants or, failing that, being asked if they wanted a wheelchair. People were _weird_.

And even though Brianna hadn't done it that day, people were always directing questions to Edwin and not to Derek when they were together, like Derek couldn't possibly follow what they said. Derek was always pretty cool about it, at least until they got out of sight of whoever had offended him so he could rant. This made Derek paranoid; Edwin could feel it. And that made Edwin paranoid on his behalf.

What he had wanted to do was to tell her, talking veeerrrry slooowwwly to make sure that this girl would understand, that sighted Deaf people did not generally use Braille, but Derek had put a hand on his arm, stopping him and gently getting her to put that tray away.

They laughed for a good minute, then Derek started the car.

Before he pulled out of the parking space, Derek turned to Edwin.

"Think she'll hit me?" Derek signed.

"Definitely," Edwin signed. She'd probably hit him no matter what. That was how _they_ showed affection (when they weren't making out, that was). But she was _really_ going to hit him when she saw this.

TBC

A/N: I'm hoping that some of the fluff herein will make up for how long I've kept you guys waiting. :)


	54. Chapter 54

Not Listening

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life With Derek_ or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Fifty-Four.

Part One: Casey.

On the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Casey woke up a little bit later than she'd meant to and had to scramble to get herself showered and dressed before everyone else woke up and clamored for the bathroom. Scurrying back into her room, clad only in a towel, she ran smack into Derek.

He managed to catch himself before he toppled, grabbing her arms to make sure that she stayed upright, too. As he did so, the towel unraveled. Casey, blushing hot enough to want to get back into the shower, yelped and grabbed it before it could slide all the way down.

"And it's not even my birthday," Derek said, grinning. Then he went into the bathroom and shut the door.

"And speaking of birthdays," Casey muttered to herself. "Happy _Birthday_ Casey." _If he forgot, I swear,_ she thought. She went to her dresser, grabbed some underwear and turned back to toss them onto her bed and saw a gift bag with a note attached.

_Tell the truth_, the note read. _You were about to kick my ass for forgetting your birthday even after the Facebook reminders, the little hearts drawn around today's date on MY calendar, not to mention all the hints you dropped this week, right?I should be insulted by how little faith you have in me. I mean, I didn't even eat any of these. _

She left off reading and took the wrapping off the first little package revealing a little box of chocolates. She debated eating one right away, but was pretty sure that there was an unwritten rule about eating candy before breakfast.

"Eat one already," Derek said from the doorway, making her jump and drop the box. Good thing it was still sealed.

"De-rek!" she yelped, whipping around.

He stifled a laugh. "Happy Birthday, Princess."

"You jerk," she said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said. "Especially when you yell at me with only a towel on."

She gasped and reached for her robe, quickly covering herself.

"Out!" she signed, shooing him away as he continued to laugh at her. "Goodbye!"He went back into the bathroom and she heard him turn on the shower shortly after that. She wiggled into her clothes, still blushing and then picked up the note again.

_I've been looking forward to today, _Derek wrote, _because it's going to be so much fun making sure that you don't get any studying done._

"De-rek," she muttered.

_You, Casey McDonald, are going to have fun if it kills me. Because I love you._

The school day was endless, filled with people whose names she couldn't place wishing her a happy birthday, complimenting her on the little Russian nesting doll earrings Derek gave her. Emily got her a couple of balloons, drawing even more attention to her, which, for the first time in forever, felt pretty good.

Still, it was hard to pay attention in class on a day like this. It was warm out—warm-ish anyway, and the trees flowered almost overnight. Some of the teachers had opened the windows so that fresh air came into the classrooms, so Casey was pretty sure that she wasn't the only one who just wanted to go outside.

Derek really had stolen her index cards, of course, and hidden her ASL dictionary. He also knew perfectly well that she'd read ahead in all of her classes, so there was no other real work to do. He didn't stop her from signing to him, at least.

"As long as you don't talk about anything that I think might come up on a test," Derek teased as they (finally) headed toward the Prince. "No asking for directions. No talking about your summer vacation."

"Can I talk dirty?" she signed. The effect was ruined by the balloons, which got stuck in the doorway that led to the parking lot. She had to take a minute to get them to clear and to get far enough away from the door to avoid tangling with other kids leaving for the day.

"Yes," Derek signed, "Please. Talk dirty."

_Dangit_! She hadn't really planned on doing anything of the sort. She wracked her brain trying to come up with something to say to him. She bit her lip.

"I got nothing," she signed.

"I really have a lot of work to do," Derek signed.

"You'll teach me?" Casey signed. "Isn't that too much like studying?"

"This is different," Derek signed. "It's a life skill. You need to know it."

"You just want to corrupt me," she said.

"That too," he said. He leaned in to kiss her, pushing an errant balloon out of the way.

"Now let's get moving," he said, pulling away. "We don't have much time." He turned back toward the car and she had to take a couple of running steps to catch up to him.

"Why?" she signed. What did he have planned? Should she be worried?

"You're getting kinda old," Derek said.

Casey tried to hit him with the balloons, but the task proved to be beyond her. She yanked them but couldn't get them to connect with his head.

Derek cleared his throat, took the balloons away, holding them just out of her reach with the air of a babysitter dealing with the unruliest of little monsters. "Do you need a time out?"

She pouted.

"Besides," Derek said. "You need to do it like this." He held the balloons more firmly, with less slack on the ribbons and threatened to hit her with the whole bunch, backing off at the last second as she shrieked and tried to get away. As soon as she relaxed, he booped her nose with one of them. After that, there was chasing and some light wrestling, but again, Derek put a stop to it.

"Act your age, Grandma," he signed, unlocking the car.

"You're older," she signed stowing her books in the back.

He raised an eyebrow at that, then leaned over, grabbing her bag. He reached into it and pulled out an open pack of lifesavers, fuzzy with lint.

"So what?"

He held up one finger, telling her to be patient as he pulled out the old fashioned change purse she'd gotten from a flea market back in Toronto. It was made of old, cracked pink vinyl, fake pearls on the old fashioned clasp.

"Full of pennies?" he asked. She narrowed her eyes. He pretended not to notice her glaring at him as he blew the shmutz off of one of her mints and popped it into his mouth.

She laughed at him as he was forced to spit the candy out a second later. He pretended to be put out by this.

"We better get home," he said. "Before your support hose fall down or something."

"Six months older," she signed, pointing at him, before he pulled out of the parking space.

Part Two: Lizzie.

"So Derek and Casey are gonna be home in a few minutes, I think," Edwin said. He, Lizzie and Marti were hanging out in the living room, watching cartoons and avoiding their homework as usual. He turned to Lizzie and Marti. "We should totally hide!"

Lizzie cocked her head in confusion.

"So that when they get here, we can jump out and be all 'surprise!' and scare the heck out of her," Edwin said.

Lizzie turned to look at him, stonefaced.

"No, huh?" Edwin asked.

"No," Lizzie said.

"Nuh-uh," Marti said, not looking up from the thing she was coloring.

"Bad idea," Lizzie said.

"Bad," Marti agreed. Because everyone knew that it wasn't good to startle Casey, or to sneak up behind her for any reason. She was even easier to startle than Derek was. She tended to freak out and then stuff got broken and people got grounded. This was not something that anyone should expect to change anytime soon, Lizzie knew.

"No fun," Edwin muttered. Then, he thought of something else. "What if we just act like we all forgot it was her birthday?" It would work, since Derek and Casey had left so early that morning.

"You must really want your teeth knocked out," Lizzie said.

"Casey's not the violent type," Edwin said.

"Who said anything about Casey doing it?" Lizzie said.

"And Derek never does any damage that requires dentistry," Edwin continued, pretending not to notice the fist Lizzie held up.

Liz smacked her fist into her palm.

"Eeep!" Edwin said and shrank away from her cartoonishly, cracking Marti up. He ran off and Lizzie gave chase through the house. Edwin ran out the back door and Lizzie followed him through the backyard and around the front.

She cornered him shortly after they both came back inside. She pinned him on the couch and commenced tickling.

"Uncle," Edwin wheezed.

"Sorry, what?" Lizzie asked.

"Uncle!" Edwin said. "Uncle-uncle-uncle!"

"Ohhh," Lizzie said. "That's what I thought you said." She let go of him. This turned out to be a huge mistake.

"Oh my God," Lizzie said as Edwin pounced on her and did some tickle torture of his own. When she couldn't flip him, she started to wonder if he'd had a growth spurt recently or if he'd been letting her win fights.

Why would he do that?

"Stop," she wheezed finally. "Can't...breathe..."

So Edwin stopped tickling, but he continued to hold her down. She asked to be let up, but he wasn't having it. She couldn't be trusted, he said.

"You're gonna need to get up eventually," she said. "You haven't eaten in ten whole minutes."

"And what's to stop you from jumping on my back before I can get to the kitchen?"

"I'm a nice person," Lizzie said. "And I'd never keep you from your between-snack snack."

He narrowed his eyes. She took a calculated risk.

"Plus," she said. "Before long, you're gonna need to go to the bathroom, right?"

"Eventually."

"Ssssssssssssssssssssss," Lizzie said. This made Edwin laugh, weakening his grip on her so that she could wiggle away.

"You fight dirty," Edwin said. He sounded impressed.

"I learn from the best," Lizzie said.

"Thank you."

"Not you," she said. He actually looked offended for a second, so she took it back.

"I'm just kidding," she said. "You're a total bad influence." That seemed to satisfy him.

_That was weird_, Lizzie thought as she climbed back onto the couch. As she looked around for the remote, she noticed that Marti was so busy watching them that she seemed to have forgotten all about her coloring book.

Part Three: Derek.

Nora brought home Japanese takeout for Casey's birthday dinner. That meant chopsticks. The best way to make sure that no food made it to Derek's mouth was to serve it with chopsticks. On his own birthday, they'd had Chinese and he'd used the usual fork, knife and spoon combo, like the happy barbarian that he was. Chopsticks were only good for drumming on the table, or, in cases of extreme boredom, shoving up one's nose.

But Casey wanted him to try, so he tried. His suffering amused her.

Then it happened.

Just when he was contemplating having Edwin distract her so he could just grab some California roll with his fingers, Casey beckoned to him.

"Wha?" he said.

She got up, and came over to his side of the table, displacing Edwin, who switched with her, walking away with a certain amount of unreadable grumbling. She held the chopsticks so that he could see that she held one straight while using the other one as sort of a lever. Then she grabbed his hand and guided it, showing him how to hold it.

He almost got a piece of teriyaki to his mouth without incident. The thing fell back to his plate, but he got it on the second try. As a reward for the effort, Casey picked up a bit of vegetable tempura with her chopsticks and fed it to him. Then she grabbed some spicy tuna roll, dipped it in soy sauce and wasabi and did the same.

She leaned closer to him, smelling of pickled ginger as she flicked a little bit of rice off of his lower lip with her finger. Derek really wished that she'd thought to kiss it off, but...

Derek caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Lizzie elbowing Edwin, which meant that he'd said something that merited elbowing. He imagined it was along the lines of "get a room." Derek looked up to see Nora watching them, wide-eyed.

As Derek wondered how he could forget that there were so many people in the room, Dad got up and came back with utensils for him. He picked up his glass and took a huge swallow of pop, not even trying to blame his need to cool off on the wasabi.

After dinner, everybody hung out in the living room. Lizzie and Casey danced to one of the CDs Casey got as a gift. Derek sat on the windowseat with a sketchpad, trying to make it look like he was staring at her for some good, constructive reason. Then he got the idea to try to capture the face Casey made when she got to the good part of a song. She usually held up one hand and said "wait...wait..." and squinched her eyes shut, then she bounced up and down a couple of times as she sang along. It would make a hell of a portrait, but that face always did things to him that made it difficult to hold a pencil steady.

Derek loved his family, but he wished that most of them would get lost for a couple hours, give him and Casey some alone time.

"Having a good time?" he signed when she eventually sat down next to him.

She nodded. "Are you bored?" she signed.

"Not even a little bit," he signed.

She pulled her hair off her neck. "I'm all sweaty," she signed. Derek agreed that she was indeed all sweaty. He knew he was supposed to protest, to say that she was beautiful. She was beautiful, of course, but he couldn't bring himself to say so. Things were gooey enough as it was.

She gave him one of those looks he loved the most: half smiling and half murderous.

_Okay, what the hell_, he thought. _It's her birthday._

"You're beautiful," he said.

He put his arm around her, pulling her close. After a while, another song she liked came on and she sang along. It didn't get old, watching her sing. Holding her close as she sang was even better. Even given the possibility that she was singing something from that _High School Musical _CD that Nora had just given her. The box from it was on the coffee table in front of them, at the top of the small pile of CDs Casey had been given that day.

Edwin had been horrified earlier when she unwrapped the thing, or at least he'd pretended to be. Derek was pretty sure he'd caught the kid bopping his head to it at some point. Casey confirmed this after Ed, Liz and Smarti had been sent off to bed.

"I don't get why he'd pretend to hate it so much," Casey said.

"Really?" Derek asked.

"What?"

He held up the box, which featured some really overcaffeinated-looking actors caught in mid-jump. There was also the problem of the what might be the most literal title in history. Then there were the song titles.

"Bop to the Top?"

"Shut up!" Casey said. "It's way better than it looks!"

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Okay." The kiddies were out of the room, so he leaned in for a kiss. He'd barely pecked her when she startled. Then the Hand of Dad landed on his shoulder.

"School night," Dad signed.

Casey was happy enough to go along with this, grabbing the remote to shut of the music then getting up to go upstairs. Dad kissed her on the forehead and gave her one last Happy Birthday for the road. After she was gone, Dad turned to Derek.

"We need to talk," Dad signed.

_Uh-oh._

Part Four: Nora.

"We need to talk," Nora told Casey.

"Uh-oh," Casey said, sitting down on her bed.

"Does that mean you have an idea what we're gonna talk about?"

"Um, no," Casey hedged, looking everywhere but at her mother. "It's just that 'we need to talk' is never good."

"But you still have an idea what I'm going to say," Nora said, sitting down on Casey's office chair.

"Um..."

"About tonight," Nora began, swivelling the chair left, then right. When Casey continued to look at her blankly, Nora decided to elaborate: "At the _table_."

Casey blushed. "Oh."

"Ohhh," Nora teased. "Now you get it."

"Um."

"Yeah," Nora said. "So, as your mother, I have about 926 questions that I want to ask you right now..."

Casey gripped a double handful of her bedspread, wringing the fabric between both hands.

"But, strictly speaking, none of them are my business," Nora said.

Before Casey could say anything else (or worry a hole in her quilt) Nora said, "What I can say is that I acknowledge that you're not a little girl anymore and that I hope that you and Derek...whether you've been..."

"Mom."

"...intimate..."

"MOM"

"...yet...or not..."

Casey buried her face in the quilt.

If the slightest mention of sex made Casey turn that color and hide her face, that had to mean that she wasn't ready for sex, Nora thought. Then again lots of people did it before they were ready.

"Casey? Look up here."

Casey picked her head up and looked at her mother's chin.

"I know the last time we had this discussion, it didn't really go too well," Nora continued. That was an understatement. Her entire position on the matter had been that neither of her daughters should _ever_ have sex until marriage. Maybe not even then.

"But we've both grown up a bit since then," Nora said. "And I want to make sure that you're prepared and that you know that you can come to me with any questions you have."

God forbid the same ridiculous misconceptions about sex that Nora used to hear when she was a teenager were still going around. For example, there were dozens of precautions a girl could take so as not to get pregnant and not a one of them had anything to do with actual birth control or condoms. Of course, when Nora was in her teens, the AIDS crisis was really starting to become an issue and that added many other misconceptions to the mix. She thought (hoped) kids were smarter now, but one never really knew.

"I mean it," Nora said. "When I was a kid, we used to hear that you couldn't get pregnant if you took a bottle of soda, shook it up and put it—"

"You believed that one?" Casey asked.

"I didn't know one way or the other," Nora said. "That's my point. I didn't have anyone to talk to about this stuff. You can't imagine me going to your Grandma, can you?"

"Ew."

"Exactly," Nora said. "And I don't want anybody in my family to even have to _wonder_ about something whether soda will do the trick, or if two condoms are better than one..."

"At Fletcher Academy we had that class..."

"I remember. I saw that book they assigned," Nora said. "It was more about scaring you away than anything else. I could imagine you glazing over after the second or third gory description..."

"Or photograph," Casey said.

"Or photograph," Nora agreed. "There's so much more to think about than getting pregnant or the possible diseases you can get or not get. Sex, when it's good, involves trust and love and respect. Does the book bring any of that up?"

"Not that I remember," Casey said. "Mom. Listen, Derek and I haven't done anything..."

_Phew_, Nora thought. But she said: "Okay. Still none of my business. But I'm not naïve enough to think that it hasn't crossed your mind and that it won't _continue_ to cross your mind. A _lot_. You know I would rather that you waited, but it's not exactly in my hands, is it?"

Casey looked like she wasn't sure whether or not this was a rhetorical question.

"You know," Nora said. "I really think that this is the quietest you've ever been. We should have "The Talk" more often."

"Mom" Casey groaned, but at least a little of the tension was broken.

"I'm almost done," Nora assured her. "Just a couple of thoughts to leave you with, then you're free to cringe all you want, okay?"

"If it's possible to cringe any more."

"It's always possible," Nora said. "Now, as far as I can figure, maturity means taking responsibility for yourself. You've always been pretty responsible, actually, but if you're not ready to go buy condoms in front of God and the drugstore cashier, you're not ready. If you have questions and you're too afraid to ask me, or George, or even a nurse or counselor, you're not ready. If you and Derek can't talk about it seriously..."

"I'm not ready," Casey said. "I get it."

"And I know Derek has condoms," Nora said. "I do his laundry. He keeps them in his _sock drawer_ for Pete's sake. But I think that protection is for _both_ of you to deal with."

Casey nodded.

"Finally, birthday girl, full circle" Nora said, and by this time she was really sick of talking. "Do you think you can keep any PDA at the dinner table G-rated? I thought George was going to choke on his Unagi."

Casey made a face and agreed that they'd try to keep the eye-sex (and hopefully any other kind of sex) to a minimum. Nora gave her oldest daughter a kiss on the forehead and left her. Now, all she had to do was see if she could talk George out of putting alarms on the kids' doors.

Part Five: Casey.

Derek tapped on Casey's door not too long after her Mom left.

"Birds and bees?" he signed when she looked up.

Casey nodded. "You too?" she signed.

"Yes," he signed, coming into the room. "This is either the third or fourth time. Does he think I'm dense?"

"No," she signed. "Horny."

He slapped both hands over his mouth to stifle the laugh. She hated that he was still so inhibited about his laugh, but it was almost midnight and he _would_ wake up the house if he didn't smother it. It was a couple of minutes until he got at least a little control of himself because he'd look up, catch her eye and start laughing all over again.

"Sam taught you that," he signed. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"A+" he signed, when he could. "Head of the class. Don't bother with that test on Saturday. You pass."

"I wish," she signed. She didn't feel the least bit confident about signing the song. Weeks of planning and she was _still_ off rhythm.

"Don't be a dork," Derek signed. He looked down at her from where he was standing. He moved closer and fingered the hem of the t-shirt she had on, the one he'd given her that morning.

"You're wearing it?"

She nodded. "Trying it on," she signed. "Has my name on it."

The shirt was pink and a size too big, but on it were drawings of several small hands spelling out the word "Princess."

She'd almost hit him after she saw it in the bottom of the little gift bag he'd given her, but now she was thinking of wearing it on Saturday for her test, as a bit of a good luck charm.

TBC.

A/N: I know. I know. Mea culpa. It's been so long. I hope you guys are still at least a little interested. It's winding down, this story, long as it is, and it would be a shame if nobody stuck around to the end.

A/N the second: The canon version of Casey's birthday would not have fit this universe, so I hope you all forgive the liberties I've taken. :)


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